M. A smarter wolf would stay away,

Vesper · 02-14-2012, 08:34 PM

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Vesper wanted to protect her place in the clan; it made this moment all the more dangerous as far as her aggression was concerned. She would risk her life for very few, and she would not kill unless it was to protect someone in the moment, but she would definitely drive off the spy who was not following orders. Had she not still retained respect for Inferni, however, she would have chased him with snapping jaws and vicious snarls at the first pathetic excuse. She didn’t want to continue to paint the coyote clan with a bloody image, however; that discipline was all that came between her teeth and the skin of the albino mutt.

And so when the coydog grinned, telling her that she had not been civil, the Praetorian wanted to snort at him. She was in too bad a fucking mood to coddle him like a deaf infant, direct him with coos as to where to go and what he was doing wrong. He deserved no more than the blunt words he received; he should be considered fucking lucky he hadn’t been knocked on his ass already.

Pale lips slithered back to reveal sharp teeth, and Vesper quickly mimicked the expression—but more snarl than grin. Subtly, her paws shifted in preparation, shoulders rolling forward, hackles up and body settling a few inches lower to keep her center of gravity close to the ground. Her posturing, other than setting her defenses and that snarl, was nonexistent. Blue eyes watched.

And then something happened—a catalyst for action that she had missed. For a moment, she thought she heard a voice and the scent of a polecat, but her attention had focused on the ugly white blur flying toward her.

Vesper moved on a dime; his attack might have been sudden, but his intentions had been clear. She skipped to the side, his teeth skating hot and slimy across the fur of a shoulder. She jerked then—an attempt to send her hip into his lithe frame, to knock him into one of the skull posts—and danced out away from Inferni territory, her teeth and mind set. It would be simple to call for a clan mate to aid her in this, but she wanted to prove herself—and wanted all the blood to herself, too. She had failed in her battles lately, and this would be different.

Goading him on with a growl, coal-tipped tail flickering behind her, the tawny woman charged for him. He wasn’t that much larger than her, but she was nearly flat-out to the snowy ground with ears pinned, and at this angle she hoped to grab one of his legs. It was a canine’s thinnest reachable bone in the heat of battle, and if she was lucky, she could render it or a paw lame.

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