Stavanger Bay will you suffocate in my ink

The titan was no stranger to fighting along the edges of his home; Warsaw had been riddled with attackers from the nearby packs and their desperate attempts at the islands. Skellige had been born and raised to fend them off and keep the Cairn family in total control. He intended to do the very same with the bay. His nature was beyond that of protective when it came to the new home. The inky creature would not allow for this wolf to simply parade through without suffering repercussions for his actions. Certainly, he could scent the blood on the borders; Szymon had done so much in order to make sure their lands were marked thoroughly.
 
When the agouti man echoed his statement once more, the leviathan curled his lip and did nothing more to confirm the questioning. If the loner could not understand the terms offered to him, it would be a short conversation. However, the dark-eyed creature seemed to compose a question of his own after a moment or two of thought. Skellige lifted his head upward and flicked his tongue across his canines. “A small number. Six or so,” he answered the question. “I should hope that I do not need to call them,” he then added as a warning to the other male. The leviathan knew that they would come if he were to lift his voice; it would not be wise for this wolf to impose a fight. It seemed that such an action would not be necessary, however. As the brute turned with disinterest and left the bay in Skellige's capable hands.