The bay was not an island, and each night he found slumber on the shores of the great guarded land, he was reminded of this fact. It bothered him to think that he was abandoning the true, ideal location to claim a pack. The dark glint of his gaze had found the small islet that sat outside the wilds. A skilled swimmer would be able to reach that land with ease, but he feared that in his building a new legion, he would exile those who were not yet adept in the ways of the sea. The bay was secluded and as near to the water’s edge as he could muster without alienating newcomers.
 
It did not mean that he would be soft to those who wished to enter his ranks. Skellige was a man who knew all too well that finding his benevolence there would mean his failure. The titan wished in those times that he could speak to the witch doctor of his homeland and ask for the blessing of his guide. Surely, the great white would know how to move forward with an iron fist. Perhaps he was fading from the rightful ways of the Warsaw wolves.
 
Forcing himself to abandon those thoughts, the specter moved across the sands of the bay with the determination that he had forced on himself in those times. Skellige could not allow his doubts to leak into the conviction of his blood. The evening hours did well to calm him on any typical night. This, coupled with the lapping of the waters at the edges of his paws was enough to force his heart into a steady beat once again.
 
Soon enough, he would remind himself, this would all be his empire.

The great wraith had grown very protective of the bay as time drew closer to making his claim. He had set out to marking the edges of the territory with his scent so that passersby would know to keep clear, but he had not anticipated that one would wander in so soon. The scent was drawn to him on the wind, and his ears darted upright in hopes of hearing the tossing of sand. The creature was not at his front, he realized with a silent sense of dread.
 
Whirling around the brute locked his dark gaze on the agouti figure who padded carelessly along the shores. This wolf did not appear as though he were wary enough for an attack, but Skellige could not calm his ruffled nerves. The thought of Ksenia sending another to weaken him was not too farfetched, and in light of how close he had come to taking the bay as his own, he would see it as an opportune moment for his pale sister to destroy everything he had worked for.
 
The fur along his neck and shoulders rose upwards somewhat as he lifted his crown over that of the other wolf. “What are you doing in my bay,” he spat to this brazen creature. The dark glint of his gaze was locked with the vision of the strange man, though it trailed to note the sharp musculature of the wolf. This beast was a fighter.

There was a nonchalance about the character; something that dug into the skin of the great titan and drew out a wicked snarl from his parted jowls. Salmon-colored tongue flicked across his yellowed canines and the brute took another step forward, keeping his head held aloft and his dark gaze trained on the body of the other male. Though the trespassing creature appeared as if he had known many fights in his time, the wraith was confident in his own abilities so close to the lapping waves. Should he be able to draw the other beast into the swell, his victory was certain. Instead, with bristling fur, Skellige lifted a paw and quirked a single brow at the brute before him.
 
“I am pleased you find the news so… thought-provoking,” he sneered with a lash of his inky tail. Bobbing his crown toward the earth, the leviathan took one last step toward the man on his shores and frowned. “But unless your interest lies in joining these ranks, you’ll need to move along.” It was less of a suggestion and more of a command. Should the titan need it, he had a group behind him, ready and willing to chase away even the prospect of intruders from their bay. No one could be so foolish as to simply waltz into territory that reeked of another man’s scent – not so recently. This agouti creature was either very daft, or brazen beyond measure.

The titan was no stranger to fighting along the edges of his home; Warsaw had been riddled with attackers from the nearby packs and their desperate attempts at the islands. Skellige had been born and raised to fend them off and keep the Cairn family in total control. He intended to do the very same with the bay. His nature was beyond that of protective when it came to the new home. The inky creature would not allow for this wolf to simply parade through without suffering repercussions for his actions. Certainly, he could scent the blood on the borders; Szymon had done so much in order to make sure their lands were marked thoroughly.
 
When the agouti man echoed his statement once more, the leviathan curled his lip and did nothing more to confirm the questioning. If the loner could not understand the terms offered to him, it would be a short conversation. However, the dark-eyed creature seemed to compose a question of his own after a moment or two of thought. Skellige lifted his head upward and flicked his tongue across his canines. “A small number. Six or so,” he answered the question. “I should hope that I do not need to call them,” he then added as a warning to the other male. The leviathan knew that they would come if he were to lift his voice; it would not be wise for this wolf to impose a fight. It seemed that such an action would not be necessary, however. As the brute turned with disinterest and left the bay in Skellige's capable hands.