Border Lines, Revamped | Drift | Open

[global.]

Dᴜsᴋ ғʀᴏᴍ Cʀᴇsᴇɴᴛ
Tʜᴇ Aʟᴘʜᴀ
↢ { four }⇝ { alpha } ⇜ { male } ↣

Dusk uttered a low snarl, his hackles raising a bit off of his shoulders as Brechen advanced towards Treason. However, he knew that she could probably hold her own. When the female backed off, Dusk squared his shoulders and moved to act as a wall between the two, eyes narrowed dangerously at the wolf. He might not have been able to handle him earlier with his odd logic, but he normally went with the physical way anyways. "If you'd be so kind, stand down Brechen." Though his words seemed polite as you please, the tone of them were sharp and to the point; a snarl tacked on the end for good measure.

[Render]

Brechen didn't even hear the peaceful words spoken against him as he advanced now towards Dusk. A foam began to appear around the edges of his mouth as he continued to snarl.
"Haha! Hahahahaha!!!!"
Brechen lunged, and suddenly went stiff. His attack fell short and he smacked into the ground, writhing to regain his footing but unable to gain control over his movements.

{ I am just going to skip to after the stampede then. }

The sentinel stood before the limp body, fear coursing through his veins. What had happened that Call had been so foolish as to get knocked in the back?
It was his own fault. He never should have suggest attacking such a fresh bull.
Amaroq collapsed to the ground with his head on Call's shoulder.
Should he leave the pack or return and face the humiliation of being responsible for the death of his scout?