What was it with these pups and having absolutely no respect for their elders? Matthias remembered his birth pack in a fuzzy memory of days long past. He thought of the alphas who ran the place with an iron paw and how he would receive a nip on the rump every time he spoke out of line. Many thought it cruel, but the older brute thought it made him the wolf he was today. And yet these Moladion wolves didn’t seem to care about how their young were being raised. This child couldn’t have been too old but she was certainly capable of caring for herself as he could see no parents around watching over her. Perhaps she could do with a bit of a lesson in humility… not that Matthias knew much about it himself. "That would be tragic, wouldn't it?" “No, not entirely. Wolves die every day. What would be tragic is watching your rancid meat go to waste.” It wasn’t said in a scolding way or even in a way that one would consider emotional. It was spoke nonchalantly, as if the pair were talking about the weather.

Her face became one of mock fear and it did little to quell the rising annoyance bubbling in Matthias’ chest. "Think you could watch that happen though, old man? I mean, you came all this way for a damsel in distress, no?" A dry chuckle left his throat yet no humor reached his steel eyes. Pups! How is it that someone so young could think they knew all the answers? How did she figure she was safe? It was time she learned her place. “No.” he said simply. His age might be older and his muscles were never meant for speed, but that did not stop him from lunging forward and aiming a grabbing bite to her injured paw.

If he had been fast enough, he would grab on with just enough force to sting but not cause any lasting damage. Then, he would pull her off her high log and drag her to the ground with him. “I came here to teach a fool she is never safe out in the wilds.”. Seconds later, a huge wild cat landed just where the pup had been laying moments later. It had been there the whole time, watching and waiting for its change to strike. Matthias hadn’t smelt it, but he had watched it move carefully along the branches as it watched its pray lay on its side. The older wolf barked at the cat, ducked as it swiped at him, and tried to strike back but missed. It stood on the tree, angry that it’s chance had been lost and wanting something for all the time it had spent stalking the girl.