Come out. Come out. Come out. My wolf lets forth a series of yips and snarls. Go. Go to the other female. Go on. Go. Then, she daintily crosses her paws, rests her chin on them, and dramatically closes her eyes. No way. She’s pissed that he let Haisley rub up on him. I guess the rush of his dominance show has worn off, and she’s remembered that she has beef.
