She watches him as her anticipation is expanded, ashen ears pulling back over her head as he moved all around her. She could not help the raising of her dark hackles as he did so, but his nod of acceptance is what she waited for. With his coming to stand at her side with their shoulders aligned, Apollymi felt the familiar anticipation sink into her veins. He would strike, just as her brother used to, and Apollymi did something unexpected as a result.
Feeling his jaws clamp around her leg was unexpectedly anti-climactic, but she was thankful he would not break the limb. Pressure was there enough to let Apollymi know he was there, but nothing so serious as to truly hurt her. This was play and nothing more, and wolves are naturally rugged when they are in the savage grip of entertainment. Using the lack of true pain, Apollymi moves to sit on her haunches, swinging her head back toward the left side of his neck at the base of his ear. Her black painted jaws opened wide and she attempted to clamp down on the base of his ear. With her body contorted and her mouth upon his ear, she would increase pressure on her jaws, though remembering to keep the attack at least partially gentle so she did not puncture anything vital. It was meant to back him off her limb, to make him parry her motion so she might deliver another attack.
Her drive had seen a dramatic rise as she finds her tail waving despite the contorted way she now sits. It was a game, and she had to win to get what she wanted. To be a protector of Glorall, to lead the wolves of the ocean pack to war against the weak and useless if her king so wished it. If there were young to be trained, she would gladly take on students. All that the role entailed would be done, and silently. No one ever suspects the small, silent ones to be deadly and fierce.
female - four - glorall - meltdown x snowshoe