The cliffs rose before him like daunting towers of stone. They stretched higher than the dark male dared to think, and he knew it was impossible to scale the entirety of it. He had trekked high enough, however. Skellige had not scented another wolf in quite some time. He assumed that hunkering down for the evening in one of the many caverns and lined the Cliffside would be a wise decision.
 
The inky male had not realized how ravaged the lands were. His heart had called him to the water’s edge, but passing through the expansive terrain and stretched before it was disheartening. The trees were barren and prey was scarce to the point of making animals savage. Skellige was not impressed. The swarthy wolf was determined, though, to find a home on the coast. He would begin to build from there. Though the scent of prey was faded and lost to the locusts that had pillaged the land, the aroma of other wolves was stronger than anything else. He would have guessed more than ten packs roamed the wilderness. They would be hurting without food. He would turn them.
 
With a powerful leap, the dark-furred monster cleared a large gap at his front and landed with a breathless “humph” on the other side. Flicking the tip of his tail, the silver-ribbed beast cast his gaze behind him, looking back at the path he had taken.

This area she would pass through. It was decrepit and empty; it offered nothing. She had prowled here at all because she wondered if any measure of prey had sought refuge... but there was nothing, here. Sangilak would stick to the coast and the waters edge. The she-wolf cared for the wellbeing of few, and she would ensure of their survival. It would not be had, here.

A sound distracted her, and Sangilak looked ahead to see a man there. She broadened her distance from him, though wondered if from that height he could see what she could not. She moved nearer to the stone-face herself, and simply bounded upward to put herself on the same level of ground as he himself was. But from here, she could see only the water crashing against the rock, a sheer drop below, and as she looked over her shoulder, there was no change.

An unfamiliar scent wafted through his nostrils and the inky male turned his sharp gaze to peer curiously at an equally dark woman who had found her way to the stoop where he stood. The fur along his spine and neck stood on end and he drew his lips over ivory canines. Long ears flattened to his skull and the brute turned his body, dangerously close to slipping over the cliff’s edge, to face the shadowy stranger who had met him on the rock.
 
She appeared to have been searching for something. Skellige did not care for what. His own pursuance was the only thing that flickered through his mind, and he would not have this dark-furred stranger stand before him without uttering a word. The inky cunt…
 
Hackles rising, Skellige watched her with a cautious gleam to his mahogany gaze.

Sangilak watched him react to her, and instinctively behaved in turn. She moved off of the ledge and back some odd steps, keeping him in her sights, revealing her own fangs and pressing her ears o'er her brows in the promise of aggression should another hair shift in a way that displeased her. Protecting more than just one, now, a snarl broke from her that most certainly said: back off, or else! Her tail lashed uneasily behind her; she'd have no issues in giving him the extra push to behave himself, if need be, and she took a single, solid step forward to imply as much. The storm she would bring to him if he did not cease and desist was worse than what the locusts had wrought to the land: for certain, his life would come to its [perhaps untimely] end.

Bristling fur and snapping jowls. Skellige leered at the pitch-colored female. His sharp gaze locked with hers unsettlingly. While he was impetuous and brazen, the silver-ribbed male was not senseless. His reaction to the woman would not have been as strong had he not been standing on the other side of the gap. If she were to leap, his hulking frame would block her from landing on his side. He was held by that same standard, though. He would not be able to cross back over the gap unless the she-wolf turned away. They were at an impasse. And so he instigated her further. Clicking his teeth together, Skellige lifted his head upwards and sneered at the female. She was a fiery cur. Lifting his tail upwards, the inky man stood like a looming shadow, holding fast to his ground.