Ankyra Sound das klagende lied

"Very eloquent," Wylla sarcastically noted, eyeing her lookalike up and down and then deciding that, even though he looked a lot like her, they couldn't be more different, his stony no giving her the impression that he fancied himself to be like Kierkegaard. Silence was intimidating, or so they said. Wylla was too dumb to be intimidated by quiet wolves, but she'd fought a number of times in her life, and it had always been against chatty, backtalking brats. She had yet to meet her maker in the form of a large, formidable and silent wolf.

"What do you want?" she asked, brusque in tone. There were only so many reasons wolves showed up on the borders. About half of the time it was to trespass or disrespect her undeserved completely well-deserved authority, which made Wylla naturally suspicious of everyone else that showed up. Indeed, the stress of leading when outsiders seemed to disregard your claim was gradually eating away at her, and it showed in her stormy countenance that, previously, had been more jovially rude than grouchy.