fish are for the birds

The bite marks would linger for a few days, but the boy was well-stretched, and well-trained. He knew how to take a fall, and the twisting had done anything permanent. Ignoring the few new cuts he had gathered, he bounced back onto his feet with easy energy, excitable as a pup as he looked to the older wolf.

The boy reached out his paw in thought, mimicking the turning sensation that Mags made as far as he could make it. Reaching the point that it hurt, he nodded. “And then you just twisted me over, right?” he was still playing it out in his head, trying to decide how he could have countered it. “What would you have done in my place?” he asked. The best way to win next time, was to work out why he lost this time. “yeah, the paws fine” he promised Mags.