She was permitted to lick the young one, and it is a comforting thing to be allowed to do. Hormones control her mind, knowing she must care and protect the young wolf pup as if it were her own. The pup did not carry her scent but it did not matter to her in these moments. He was pup, he was young and her lava pools were looking him over.

His own movements did not cause her to to stir. It was evident that he was hungry and wished to feed. She does indeed lower herself and allow him to feed. Milk is plenty within her, as she was a strong female that was well fed. She did not have a full load of puppies, only two that were her own flesh but with others feeding her, it was easy to keep her form maintained. She shares herself with the youngling, and in the bond forged with feeding he had become hers and hers alone.

Thus when the shadow comes, she is on edge. Although her hormones and mind tells her that this is her young one, she knows that the shadow will demand and will wish to kill. She remembers, the world flashing back, to when she found the body of her own flesh lifeless in the dirt. The young one is already hers, and she was not going to allow harm to him. The shadow is never far, always lingering and watching, and her lava pools fall upon his greens momentarily as she sees the hungry glaze within them.

She positions herself over the young one, her teeth baring as her ears fall back in submission. It was a conflicting signal. A signal that she will protest but ultimately it is his will. Her hormones do not allow her to be as she usually is with meals, to wait her turn. No, this is no meal, and she feels a mother's ferocity as the shadow lashes out, grasping the pup by the scruff.

The flame lets out a cry, her reddened hackles blazing as her ears suddenly dash forward. The pup does now smell of her own milk, marked just as her others that are of flesh. Her form makes a leap forth towards the shadow. Her muzzle opens and aims to bite upon the bridge of his nose, asking him to release the young one with a growl- that he is not prey but her young. Her bite is rough but not damaging. She holds close by, not backing down and expecting jaws to come her way with her protest. She needs only for him to drop the boy, to not consume him and perhaps her defiance to his dominance would release the boy from the jaws of death, to be born again by the woman of flame.