Kintla Flatlands Just Passing Through

The other wolf didn't go away; rather, he was drawing nearer, entering the water and lying down in its cool, gently rippling embrace. Atticus wondered if the wolf's nose worked at all, for him to venture so close to claimed lands without realizing it. Or maybe, like the wolf from Silvertip Mountain that Atticus had recently fought, he simply didn't care…which was a disturbing prospect.

This was unacceptable. He was too close to the lands, and Atticus couldn't tolerate it any longer, even if the other wolf's intentions seemed harmless enough. Moving into sight of the wolf on the opposite bank, Atticus stopped when river water lapped over his ankles and gave a short but authoritative growl. "You're encroaching on my packlands, stranger," he said, his tone very straightforward. Though he was not gentle about situations like this, he was not overly aggressive or hostile either. He didn't want violence, after all. In any of these cases, he just wanted the intruder to leave.