An earthy brown-tipped ear turned back at a muddled sound, flickering in a few uncertain directions. Hawthorne thought he had heard someone’s voice right after the ram’s warning grunt, but he wasn’t too sure, either. The sound had come from the wrong direction, and he wasn’t exactly known for his great hearing. Quite the opposite, actually.

Whatever the case, Hawthorne didn’t have time to turn and look as the ram made his charge. The rusty beast stopped short, rearing onto his hind quarters and he swung himself around to face the boy. Head lowered, the ram shook his horns with a heavy motion before letting out another loud grunt. Hawthorne shook his own head in a similar, mocking manner, mouth pulling tight with exasperation. Sure, goats were pretty simple, but had Graham really forgotten him in a matter of weeks? Maybe the big old blockhead billy needed a little help remembering…

Hawthorne was squared up, preparing for the next charge. He had done this sort of thing a hundred times if he’d done it once, though, admittedly, Graham had never charged him with such conviction before. This felt…real. Dangerous, even. To the young wolf, however, that just meant a little extra challenge, a little more reward for winning. His lips pulled back in a small, pleasant smirk as he lowered his head, waiting for the disgruntled ram to make his move, but…

Head and ears darted up in attention as he caught the motion behind the stamping ram, pale green eyes suddenly wide with concern as he spotted the small boy. The boy called out to him, and this time, with the correct heading and closer proximity, he heard it quite clearly. Unfortunately, so did Graham.

“Woah, kid—” Friendly concern in his tone, Hawthorne had meant to politely tell the kid to back off, that he was fine, he had this—but he didn’t get that far. The rusty, bearded ram spun around at the pup’s bark, backed up a couple steps, and lunged forward in another charge directed at the smaller boy.

With no thought toward his own safety, Hawthorne bolted forward, his long legs stretched to their limits as he pushed himself to overtake the ram. Arching a bit in his path, the young wolf came at the shaggy beast from an angle, driving his shoulder hard into the soft spot behind the ram’s elbow. Knocked off-balance by the impact, the ram faltered and veered off-course, hooved clattering against the rocked irrhythmically as it fought to regain its footing. Meanwhile, the sandy tan and brown boy tumbled off in the opposite direction, his body turning fully over end before his feet found the ground. Righting himself out of the tumble, he skid awkwardly across the loose stone before coming to a stop, and then…just jogged easily over to the younger boy, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth in a heavy pant.

“I think you startled him,” Hawthorne told the younger boy, justifying the ram’s behavior. He let his pale green eyes sweep over the kid before going back to the ram. The kid looked vaguely familiar, certainly part of the pack, but, other than that, Hawthorne was at a loss. Now watching the ram turn to face them again, his hooves dancing in an uneasy side to side shuffle as if trying to decide whether to go for a third charge, Hawthorne thought to amend his statement, his face breaking into an amused smile. “I think we both startled him.”