The boy says nothing still, does not react in any fashion to my sudden appearance. The only acknowledgement in fact, only comes as I be-rid his eccentric circles of the offending leaf, to which he immediately begins tracing his path once more. Where my paws have deviated from his circle, the boy too follows, so fixated upon the small trenched up path that I watch as he literally smacks his nose straight into my chest. I stare down at his small, chubby puppy form with mildly morbid amusement. This cub was clearly not functioning to full capacity...

He inhales my scent, burrowing his nose into the plush fibers of my chest. Little does he realize my thoughts of prey have been renewed. A dysfunctional specimen is a weak specimen, and the world is already infested with far too many. Unless this boy proves my logic wrong very quickly, his chances of survival would greatly diminish by the minute. Angry mother or not, by now he was so close into my keeping I could snatch him up between my jaws and have off with him before she could catch wise....

The boy begins moving again, fixing upon my line I had created and adding to it, dragging his paws through the soil until I stand at the epicenter of a new ring. I merely blink queerly at him as he regards me with a small toothy grin, his little tail wriggling for only a moment before it curls up over his top-line and he holds his little body as tall as he can manage. I snort, a short and harsh bark of laughter given, dying as quickly as it erupted. Really? This little pint-sized blood-bag is going to try and dominate Me?

I can't help but be entertained... who wouldn't be? But as he hops into my little ring and struts between my legs to my belly, all amusement flees, expression turning from mildly stoic to instant aggressor. Sensitive belly flesh crawls beneath the pinching needles of probing baby teeth, prying a deep, gutteral threat from parted jowls as my spine hikes up to pull my stomach upwards and I hop to one side, paws now a-ground just outside his ring and leaving him standing there in the center alone. Ears pin to the nape of my skull, lips curled in a venomous threat as I take my own domineering posture, tassel curling like a scorpion's stinger up over silver haunches, shoulders square as I glower down at him. Any normal wolf would have clearly seen that his attempt at nursing would not be tolerated.