As Tychon assailed the fiendish puppy, an adult apparated from the brush. Immediately when he recognized this, he attempted to pull his strike. The development was so sudden, however, that the adolescent male only lightened his bite - barely. His teeth collided with the silvery adult male’s muzzle with the crack of bone meeting bone. The bite sounded worse than it was; Tychon had slowed his bite enough so that no ripping of skin occurred. There were instead, light punctures that could heal without scarring.

He widened his mouth as if he’d been stung by a hornet and raised his head away from the parent with his ears drawn back and a warning contorting his face into nasty lines that pulled his cleft lip further a part to discourage the adult’s advance. As if it would, Tychon thought sarcastically. The new arrival was huge and struck him as a heavyweight brawler. The intimidating appearance cautioned Tychon enough to keep him from rashly pursuing combat. However, the command the mighty wolf gave made Tychon's emotions flare with ire; this was his meal! If this wolf had a problem with the safety of his pup, then he should take the toddler away from the danger.

Tychon’s amber and black serrated eyes flexed into aggressive slits when he barked crossly, ”No. This meal is mine.”

Spit sprayed out between Tychon’s deformed lips unintentionally at the larger wolf while he spoke. He hardly noticed it because it was common for him when he spoke roughly, but it did make him a bit self conscious. His snarl became a more polite instead of fully insulted anyways, even though his tail curled over his back to show his unwavering determination to keep his food. Especially that damn leg.