Dragoncrest Cliffs around here, it's just another saturday night.

Artaax was busily fighting the urge to drop to his haunches right then for another round of scratching when something happened that put his physical discomfort to the far back of his mind. The boy froze upon the threshold of Drageda as he spotted something moving towards his home in the distance - something dark, and thin, and not pack. Every muscle in his body tensed as he watched the stranger creep towards the invisible line that marked his home. In spite of it being understood that by patrolling the borders, his purpose was to deter strangers from the borders, he was pinned in place by uncertainty in that very moment.

Fortunately, each step the stranger took served to melt away his paralyzing shock. Or maybe not so fortunately, for while an older, more experienced guardian might have recognized the desperation and emaciation that the stranger stank of meant he was a more dangerous creature than even a healthy mountain lion, Artaax recognized only a brazen lobo encroaching rudely upon his home. Shock transformed into incredulity, and Artaax's eyes narrowed as he puffed out his chest and barked sharply to halt the dark male before he came any closer.