Folding his ears further against his skull, the male angled himself as he slunk towards the ground, tail lashing behind him furiously. The dragon was no stranger to combat, nor was he particularly afraid of the wolverine – he’d faced much larger opponents over much more dire matters – but that his prize was at risk drove him to engage the well-armed woman. Lips peeled backwards to reveal a shimmering row of ivory daggers as the single sun glinted dangerously in his skull, the wolf low to the ground as he began to slither forward. It would require a bit of thought if he didn’t want his face split open by razor-like claws, and for a moment, the pair simply exchanged snarls and growls, each sizing the other up, when another wolf came into view.
Fortunately, she came in a manner that allowed Kjors to pick up on movement with his only eye, but she remained behind the trespasser, and downwind. Were he not trying to pick up on every last detail, seeking something he could use to throw this usurper down, he might not have noticed the swarthy woman align herself. As it were, he did not focus on her long, not wishing to alert the wolverine immediately. When the overgrown rat did finally realize there was a second shadow looming over her, she acknowledged the younger wolf with a tip of her head, a simple snarl that showed little more than a fierce determination to take on all comers.
Fool, the dragon thought with a terrible grin – the tables had turned against the animal now, even if she refused to acknowledge she would be better off in flight. They had no reason to chase her, not now, but as long as she hovered near the goose and the water source, she would remain under threat from both sides. She snapped her jaws at Morganna, attempting to ward off the younger wolf, closer to her body and her prize. At the moment, it seemed the wolverine was willing to use her bulk as a barricade, warding off the wolves from the goose she wished to claim as her own.
Seizing the moment of opportunity, Kjors struck while the animal was distracted. “Dare you talk to me of crime,” he hissed to wolverine, as if he might actually understand whatever it was she might have to say. “No one steals from Kjors Sørenson.” No one steals from Kjors Sørenson and lives, he thought viciously, his teeth snapping as he lunged for the animal’s back. He grasped her by the scruff, shaking his head violently when the wolverine suddenly twisted, forgetting all about Morganna for a moment or two. Snarling violently, she swatted at whatever she could catch with her talons, knicking the male’s shoulder blade before he tossed her to the side, out of reach and onto her side. The animal struggled violently and Kjors quickly made for his sleeping goose, attempting to stand over it and defend it from any actual plunder.