Their stand off lasted only a few moments before the both of them realized neither were going to attack. Tychon’s stiff composure settle slightly when the white faced male’s warning growl dragged to silence; his hackles smoothed to normal height while his tail and head remained raised. He attempted to gauge the thoughts of the adult wolf when he tilted his head towards his bossy brat and sat down. The action unnerved Tychon. Did he truly count as so little a threat that the adult thought he could sit? Apparently so. Bewildered, Tychon’s eyes widened, betraying his juvenile mind.

A moment after, his brown and cream head lowered as his shoulders shrugged upwards. Tension returned to face, pulling his brows together while his lips turned down. He huffed like a child who hadn’t accomplished the effect he desired over an adult, but was too wise to try and move an impossible mass. Jealousy coiled around him as he watched the greedy pup gnawing on the leg bone, thinking he’d won. The expectation was that the older male would take the little one’s side, but he proved unpredictable when he told Tychon first that he was correct. Well… that was a first. Skeptical still, Tychon waited for the completed statement… aanndd there it was! The parent “compromised” by suggestion to give the tyke exactly what he wanted - the leg - and leave Tychon looking like he was beneath Scrappy Doo. Truly this wolf had great negotiation skills. Tychon’s ears pivoted flat against his head.

Marrow was Tychon’s favorite. The bone cleaned his teeth and the sticky inside was one of the most flavorful parts of the whole deer. A growl of disapproval began to fester in his voice box, but he stopped short of it becoming audible when the parent shook his puppy off the leg. His ears popped forwards again as he watched the adult set it by his feet. This was all… very confusing. But he’d take what he wanted, regardless of how he’d acquired it. He leaned forwards to grab his meal, only to pause while only his eyes snapped upwards at the threatening snarl and rough words.

“How about you just caution your brat not to mess with wolves who can kill him?” Tychon retorted spitefully and then snapped up his leg. He didn’t intend to see the pair again, but a part of him was oddly resistant to leave. The interaction reminded him of his family, when he’d been a puppy at his father’s paws. Maybe it was just the socialization thing; wolves were meant for pack life and he’d been alone for a year and a half… His eyes shifted from side to side a moment in debate before he pivoted perpendicular to the pair and strode off across the field, deciding he was better off on his own. The conversation had been a mouth full of threats - all warnings of future unrest and as a loner, he couldn’t risk the uncertainty of potential injury.