Vesper’s smirk deepened as the black she-wolf threatened her. Most intelligent wolves would back off in the face of the words and exposed fangs, but while the loner considered herself intelligent, her confidence was a tragic flaw. Whereas some other wolves had a healthy amount of pride, her pride had turned to arrogance seasons ago. She was not going to slink around with her head and tail down and let other canines order her to do something.
“Your territory?” the coywolf repeated, cocking her head and scanning the darkness of the forest. Her blue eyes narrowed as they returned to the brighter ones of the dark stranger. “I’m impressed. Do you have a pack to back up those claims?”
She had learned at a young age that loners couldn’t defend pieces of land. Usually the only neutral territories were leftovers from pack claims, leaving the prey sources less constant. Even when she had been with her family, they had been nomadic, wandering from area to area following the migration and population bursts of prey. Tying yourself down to a forest was useless unless there were comrades to constantly patrol, mark, and defend the borders.
Thunder and lightning crashed around the two females, and the darker of the two flinched at the explosive sound. Vesper’s eyes widened a fraction then narrowed, and the smirk slowly faded from her lips as she focused.
The black she-wolf spoke: “So what will it be? Life or death?”
Vesper did not answer. She remained still until a crack of lightning lit up the sky and the peal of thunder followed a heartbeat behind. In that moment, she stepped forward, shoulders rolling forward and tail dancing up behind her. “Are those the only two options, sweetheart?” she asked—prodding, testing, trying to see if this stranger had any bite behind her bark. She did not necessarily want a fight, but she wouldn’t be completely against it, either. She wanted to see where this dark wolf stood against her. The meeting could end peaceably or with a clash of fangs.
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