Frostfire Ridge i'd take the coldness from your eyes

Týrr had not been non receptive, nor entirely unwelcoming to the curious loners that happened to meander into Frostfire Ridge, for now. He was still in the processes of recruiting, though he had gathered a small group already, still, his ambitions were not so small. He was close to setting claim to it, to marking it as his, as theirs, but this was not a process that he wished to rush. He had to prove himself a capable leader to those that had agreed to follow him and he knew that rushing head long into it. Even so the desire to chase them out of the heart, to bully them into the buffer zone, though even that made him uncomfortable was a strong one. Yet, he held no claim to the lands and until he did he could not, on any sort of ground, push back. As long as they stayed away from the caches — that which they were not welcome to — he saw no need to use brute force and intimidation. For now, he was a would-be-King and he played up the diplomatic side, testing out what worked and what did not.

It was because of his pacified diplomatic (and no claim) that did not rouse his possessiveness of Frostfire Ridge when he caught the scent of another loner nearby. It prickled, certainly, but it remained slumbering. Attention diverted justly from his path, tucking away thoughts of the yet unchecked caches to scan, searching for even a sliver of a glance. Steps ceased as his gaze found and focused upon the ebony male, whom seemed to have been following. A chuff was given, ears splaying to either side of his head in a subtle warning. He did not know the loner's intentions and suspected that he might perhaps be seeking the location of their caches. “What is your name? And your business with me?” The Rekkr asked, avoiding pleasantries for the moment. He could not help it. He did not like being followed, and felt that it was his right to understand why the other male was chasing after him.