Waterfowl

All three male wolves were nervous about the other two in their vinicity. Farstep was perhaps the most nervous. He had no pack or brethren to rely on. There was no way for him to tell from where he stood whether the other dogs ran with groups or not. It didn't matter. All Farstep needed to know was that they were males, which made them immediate threats to his safety, and they were unwelcoming.

At long last he slung back his ears and narrowed his eyes, fixated on the paler wolf, since the chocolate-furred brute at his rear seemed less inclined to approach. With a grunt that trilled into a sound of discontent, the male began taking slow strides in the direction he'd turned in. It brought him further from the lake, but his pelt still bristled and his tail was still held bottlebrush and rigid behind him... Suggesting it was not the compliance they sought, but a defensive movement.