Dragoncrest Cliffs remember, dogs are not allowed in the dog park

Something was up with his mother, and it was really beginning to bother Artaax. He prowled the borders of the territory, agitated and curious as to what was going on. Wildfire had been moved away from the rest of the pack, and he hadn't attempted to visit her yet. It felt as though he'd be unwelcome, and it bugged him. All of it bugged him in ways and for reasons he couldn't understand - not that he really attempted to at all. He didn't need to understand to know he was frustrated, and he didn't need to know why he was frustrated to find some release for it. He originally thought that would be hunting, but as his wayward cousin crossed his path, he considered something else...

Artaax prowled towards the familiar wolf with hackles prickling along his spine and lips peeled back from his teeth. He moved to cut the boy off, his posture shifting from crouched, silent hunter, to tall, dominant guardian. Sirio may be family, but he was not Dragedakru anymore. The weakling had abandoned them, and that made him a trespasser on their lands regardless of his blood. He glared at the boy, saying nothing, but asking for an explanation nonetheless.