Thunder Dome three wise men

Frostrar offered a cant of his head in an almost bird like manner, fixing Jolon in a stare. “Thunder Dome is right on their doorstep,” In truth, the Viking would have been pissed if another pack settled on his doorstep. “Of course they are territorial. Would you not be if it were the other way around, hm?” It was not a smart choice for the dragoness to make, unless she wished to find her empire chased away. There was little doubt in the Scandiavian's mind that the wolves of the Ridge would turn hostile once their claim was official. “Why would the dragoness choose so close to another pack? A larger, established pack at that?” The Berserker could only see all the ways in which it would cause their downfall. They stood no chance. Yes, the three of them were brutes but they could not realistically stand against an entire pack. It would be suicide. The odds were not in their favor.

“If it were me I would have chased us away by now,” The northman wouldn't have even allowed them to get this far. He would have nipped any pack prospects settling too close to his territory in the bud before they could become a thing. Perhaps the dragoness can be persuaded to settle on a range that puts distance between them and large packs. Or else they would never be established...or established for very long. Frostrar was a warrior by blood, he knew fighting ...he knew fighting against the odds but he also knew how territorial wolves worked. Perhaps the dragoness was as peaceful as the nuns that the Moor and Cove often raided from ...peaceful as Nerian was but the Scandinavian came from another cut of beast all together. Blood and battle was his life, but he did not believe in pointless war, either. 

He would talk to the dragoness, he decided.