Frustrated, Ezekiel furrowed his brow and his ears turned back. There was ugly aggression within his body, turned on as suddenly as any hair-trigger. He was not entirely capable of controlling himself, and this showed presently. No, his uncle didn’t understand, not even after his ranting about going for the kill. Yet the lesson was there and the younger male knew it was true. If he was to fight, he would need to fight to kill. This was the lesson he had learnt from the wolverine, though it had been so long forgotten in the time that he had spent traveling home and living without worries.
“Sorry,” he muttered, aggravation apparent in his body. It had been stupid to attack the warrior, but he had expected him to recognize the challenge and enjoy the fight. When he had not, it had only proven that there were so few who might understand. Suddenly and sharply, the ache for Cwmfen was unbearable.
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