Hushed Willows Just Couldn't Resist

Warbone's approach was tempered by the fact that he recognized the scent on the air. His mouth hung open, tongue dripping as he attempted to rein in his manic protectiveness, born of having built a boundary that housed several others than himself. He stopped stiffly a few feet away from the Seadog, the base of his tail arched in nonverbal warning of the line he threatened to cross. "You are maddeningly near to my claim, Zephyr," the wolf crooned, his voice seductive, though it did not hide the threat of the rusted titan. "If I were not already familiar with you, I would have liked to meet you with my teeth— but as things are..." he mused, cold eyes rolling across the dark male, checking their surroundings for company, and when he was satisfied that they were alone, he looked back at the wolf from across the Ravine. "I am on good terms with the Seadogs, but you are not welcome frivolously near these willows. Speak with me and be on your way, or simply be on your way."

He was not particularly interested in chatting with wolves already dedicated elsewhere.