Collision. Fangs and claws, blood and spit flying as bits of fur and skin alike were torn from their once comfortable homes. Snarls filled the air, and the snap of jaws reverberated across the land - the most primal of nature’s percussion instruments.

It had been some time since I had truly trained for a battle of this caliber. Hunting had kept me in shape, and the occasional session teaching Greywind and Vhagar basic defense tactics kept my instincts sharp, but the peaceful times in Spirane - and across Moladion - found me more evenly matched with my aggressor than I had anticipated. Fury, too, at her heedless slander of my family’s history, clouded my initial assaults. But it did not take me long to find my stride, to focus on the task at hand and hone in on the weaker points of the older shewolf. Blow by blow I felt myself beginning to gain the upper hand. Finally, I was able to grab her by the back of the neck, my fangs finding deep and true purchase in the flesh there. My head shook back and forth with the strength of every Mountainborn queen before me, and in that moment I knew that the fight was won. Even though I could feel it in my bones, that I had overcome this foreigner and proved that Spirane still thrived under mine and my sister’s reign, I would not relent until my opponent acknowledged her defeat.

And yet, that moment would not come to pass the way I had anticipated. So focused on the battle were we two, that it was not until he was mere feet away that I realized another wolf aimed to throw himself into the fray. What was this? Foul play? My head whipped up, ready to defend myself from both sides if these two were working together to conspire sabotage.

Instead, the unknown male collided with my challenger, grabbing her by her already bloodied nape and dragging her away from me. He yells down at her, pinning her beneath his grasp. Panting from the exertion of the fight, the adrenaline coursing through my veins bade me to continue the attack, to launch forward and drive the threat of these strange wolves from my home. But instead, reason won out and I snapped my jaws at them. ”It is done!” I roared, hackles bristled and my muscular bodice posturing dominantly over them both. There would be no question of who the victor was this day. Spirane was still mine to defend, and that would not change anytime soon.

My nostrils flared, drawing in a deep breath and releasing the built up energy for the next attack that need not come. The male turned to me then, apologies and excuses pouring from his mouth and his body language clearly submissive. My eyes roved towards the defeated female, then back to the male laying before me, waiting for some perceived punishment that was not his to take, nor mine to give. Making the challenge had been the female's right. But slowly, the derogatory remarks of the shewolf’s challenge crept back into the forefront of my mind, and with these thoughts my lips raised to bare blood stained teeth silently. Despite the ache of my own wounds, I stepped forward towards the two foreign wolves, bracing against the fury that coiled deep within my chest. No wolf would speak ill of my family and get away with it. When I spoke again, my words were even, my voice strong and unshaking. ”Who are you, to speak so glibly of one of the oldest and strongest families in Moladion?” I wanted to know, and they would give me answers.