The ruddy coywolf only ignored his questions and snorted at him, and Skoll flattened his ears petulantly at the disrespect. He hadn’t been doing anything wrong, not trespassing or anything, and he hadn’t been necessarily rude to the other Luperci either. There was no point in him acting like that, even if he was on his own territory. The prince had learned courtesies at a young age, but that and his dominance made him expect to be treated like the individual he was; he didn’t quite grasp the concept that he wasn’t on that same pedestal in others’ eyes. The Haskel and Catori lineages, and the pride of Cour des Miracles, were nothing to a fiery ’yote from the north.
The Infernian gave him a thinly veiled order then grinned, and the wolfdog let his lips wrinkle back fully to show white teeth. “Maybe if you ask me nicely; I didn’t do anything to you,” he growled, refusing to budge until the coywolf dropped the attitude. Claw-tipped fingers flexed as the fur began to rise along his spine, accentuated by his dominant carriage.
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