The Heartwood busted teeth

Akantha heard the crunch of old snow underfoot before she saw who it actually belonged to. Her ears twisted forward and her hackles rippled with unease, waiting for the creature to reveal itself. The scent that drifted lazily over the wind spoke of wolf, but the stranger did not employ the typical stealth one would when stalking; the cadence of the walk was too pointed to be anything but a passerby. The swarthy Matriarch did not wish to be caught out here, so far removed from her Sirens, in the presence of strangers. But if she were to move, she would be found out just as quickly. So she waited, muzzle still lowered to the ice, but shrewd hazel eyes scanning the trees.

A shadow emerged, forming from the ether itself, and coagulating into a wolf shape. At first she thought it was an adult male, a large one, but the slight gangling legs and youthful visage was telling of a much younger man. One that was swiftly growing into his own. He was cloaked in all manner of dusk and night, with the barest brush of ash across his underbelly. Akantha inhaled a breath through her nostrils, that flared with alarm at the proximity of the other wolf. He hadn't noticed her yet. 

The Matriarch lifted her head as he weaved closer through the woods and rumbled a low warning note, the sound vibrating deep within her belly. She eyed him with all the intensity she could muster—a frightening thing to behold.