I limped my way back to the pack, hind left paw throbbing with a white pain that rippled up to my flank. Without the adrenaline pulsing through my system I felt every little jerk, every movement that I made. I had a rip on the back of my neck, but it had pretty much dried the day I finished with the challenge. It was nothing, a scratch that had been easily cleaned with little persistence. I had taken myself to a small water-logged river just after I rested, deciding to take my time to return to my everyday life. So I was clean and neat now, all my scratches tended to and on their way to healing - I had only gotten scratches and a slightly fractured paw, pretty good considering what the other wolf got. Bloodfest, the same loser who just couldn’t get the point to give up with our pack.

Well someone had to teach him,
And for some reason every time I attacked he near managed to avoid it.
Whatever, I still won.

When I came across the boarder finally I realised there were two wolves waiting; one would wait, because honestly I didn’t feel like pushing myself, rushing just to appease some stupid loner who wanted to join our family. Family, for a moment I stopped to wonder where everyone was - I couldn’t smell a freshly scent of Queens nor any of the pups, but I could smell another brujo whose scent was somewhat familiar to Queens’ own. Oh well, I wasn’t about to care who he was for the moment either. If he was in the pack that meant he’d been dealt with. I didn’t see why I needed to rush after I’d just defended the pack.

My dead, somewhat angry bittersweet windows landed upon a sitting demon.
I let a snarl roll from my scratched up jaw.

‘Better roll over, pretty boy. Not going to get far in here sitting, stomach up and bleeding seems to be the way,’

I moved closer, not caring to hide my limp. It showed I was rather irate and not going to hesitate to rip his goddamned throat out if he didn’t listen and move within the first ten seconds. I found his mere smirk fucking annoying, so I snapped at him, daring him to move closer or defend himself.

‘And get rid of that fucking smirk before I rip it from your lips.’

A fair enough threat, or so I thought.