Redhawk Caldera Betting on the bull in the heather

*wave*

Phox, while still reeling from Prim's death, had other things on his mind as well. Actually, just one thing: Niamh. Her scent was for all intents and purposes intoxicating, and this year had been even more intense than the last. It was the first time he had spent two years with the same mate, and that made him feel even more possessive over her. When he returned to the den to find her gone, the Redhawk was immediately on edge, and he barreled after her scent.

When he saw her frolicking with another wolf—one who he did not recognize—Phox's teeth flashed and he quickened his pace, placing himself so that he faced the stranger who was flirting with his wife. Not just any flirting, either. This was a time when Phox would allow no such thing, and the hackles along his back indicated as much.