Lost Creek Hollow Fargo, North Dakota

Joss's eyes widened when she revealed to him- with a horribly creepy smile and searing growl- that he was trespassing. He then squinted, and shook his head, perhaps a bit more violently than normal due to the fact that he was still largely immersed in water and soaked through to the skin with the freezing cold. How could he have passed into a pack's territory? He hadn't smelled any borders...But then again, he'd just been in the mucky moors, and had been walking directly up the middle of the creek which would have been impossible for them to mark. With his nose so full of swamp smell, he'd passed right by the scent of other wolves without even noticing it. 

"F-f-fuckin'," He breathed, his voice a cold puff of mist on the air. "Came f-f-f-rom the swamp, walked up th-th-th'creek. Ain't no m-m-m-markings in the water," He retorted sourly. Could the pack really claim the creek? "Jus-s-s lemmmm' go," He responded crudely, and began to pull himself out of the water even if it meant bringing himself closer to her.