Duskfire Glacier nature, nurture, heaven, and home

A sense of something off was alight in the air. Like an ember escaped from a fire. But it was not so warm that he could pinpoint exactly what it was; like the preamble of a budding shift in the world. 

Sitiyok wanted to dig in, uncover it, and covet it. His heart skipped forward a few beats as she stole more steps from the space between them and boldly breached his (admittedly large) bubble of personal space. The skin on his back prickled as his hackles silently stood on end, and his liquid copper eyes hardened at the sight of the stranger she-wolf's proximity to his striking range. She was on the fringes of it, and his blood boiled at her unabashed gall. A great, powerful part of him prevented his teeth from even sliding out behind his lips and silenced the growl in his throat before it had a chance to even form.

She moves forward, closing in, and he is stuck standing stiff-legged at her advance. She passes, waving her tail, and lending him a passing remark that is punctuated by the familiar lilt of an altogether foreign language in these parts. He inhales sharply. The anger recedes immediately, and is replaced with something cold, dark, and tangible. 

Sitiyok whirls, gaze lingering on her posterior for a beat, before darting up to the back of her head. "It is when she speaks in this tongue with such expertise, and wanders MY reaches." He rumbles assertively. "Where did you learn it?" A few steps fall in her tracks as he reaches out with his nose to sniff, again, in her direction.