We both know we can't go without it

Without hinting at his intention, Nightjar began to pad along the border again, presumably with Pantaleimon in tow. What little time they'd spent in one another's company seemed irrelevant now. Nightjar was as open with strangers as he was with close family, having no reason to behave differently in either situation; the pale-furred male may as well have been his best friend. His tail swayed comfortably as he walked, and he displayed just the right amount of deference while maintaining a sort of fierce swagger to deter outsiders from their land.

He was only just four or five months old, but Nightjar was growing up to be a strong defender and fighter, with fierce territoriality coming up as one of his primary traits. Fearlessness was another, but whether it was because he was really brave or really stupid remained to be seen.

Pantaleimon asked for some points, which Nightjar was very happy to give. Anything to make himself seem like a master at his craft! "Well first you gotta pee on a lot of things," the young Warrior explained, "like this!" And just like that, he stopped in his tracks, hiked his leg (without the need to balance against something, for once, though he did wobble), and splashed the ground with a short stream of urine. It trickled off imperfectly, but he was still learning to control that. "That way everyone knows it's yours and they can't have it." Every wolf who marked the Caldera lands claimed them as their own. 

"Then if someone tries to have it," he went on, "then you gotta fight 'em. You gotta get real mean looking and you gotta growl at them and try to bite them and keep doing it 'til they go away." He didn't demonstrate this one, mainly because he'd already given a demonstration when he first threatened Pantaleimon, and also because Nightjar wasn't able to be so convincing when he knew he was facing off against a pack mate. He had to believe the wolf was an outsider to do his very best aggressive face.