Arrow Lake beware the man who would kill a god

vilkas roots through the fish, careful to avoid the small bones that might otherwise pose a choking hazard with general distaste. he pauses from his ( slim ) meal at the sound of approaching footfalls. two sets. his ears rise, alert in time with the bristle of his hackles as low vocalization is exchanged between the owners of the two. he does not hear the exact words exchanged ( and doesn't much care ) but the sound travels, even over the falls in the distance and the sound of the lake water as it laps at the shore. he draws his tongue across his jowls, smearing the blood that dribbles down his chin where it's mixed with saliva and focuses his turbulent, seaweed green gaze upon the two-toned stranger as he circles and approaches.

the presence of the other male alone is enough to trigger vilkas's food aggression, but the lip curl from the stranger as if he had any right — it was he and his companion that had invaded on vilkas's meal-time; not the other way around — caused the mercurial whitemane's temper to flare hot beneath the fiery reds of his pelage. the firebrand's own upper lip curls as his head rises, determined to hold his muzzle higher than the stranger's. unlike the imposer, a low warning growl tears itself from between vilkas's bared, bloody teeth. it's message, combined with his body language is clear: back up. the fish was his and this was his ( temporary ) haunt and while he can't necessarily be opposed to sharing neutral territory he doesn't have to tolerate his space being invaded when he was clearly in this vicinity first.