is this a better size difference?

At first, he thought she was going to ignore him. By the look on her face, it appeared that she was content to be alone. But then, a second later, her head was whipping around, eyes bright and sarcastically dry voice cutting sharply through the air. It honestly startled him because he hadn't expected her to be so sudden. His own eyes widen, ears flying backward as his head leans back, chin tucking slightly.

Murder.

The one word that leaves her mouth is clearly not serious, but it still takes a second for his brain to register. Blinking a couple times before his posture relaxes, shoulders slumping and vermilion eyes rolling to the back of his head. Once he can see her again, he raises a brow, a smirk on his charcoal lips. "Yer tellin' me, Oleander got this nice, big infirmary for a murderer?" Wilder questions, unable to hide the disbelieving chuckle that moves his chest. "I get the vibe that this pack ain't too fond of the killin' types," he teases, letting his gaze move from her face to try and see what exactly on her was so banged up.

WILDER