Ravensblood Forest when the bullets pierced his body, he was already gone

There was a bark – far enough from the shadow runner that it would take him moments to come upon the grey male, but not as far that the wolf’s presence was entirely missed. The scent was becoming familiar to him only in the sense that he recognized it to associate it to other wolves – a nearby pack, it would seem. He wasn’t sure how he felt of such a thing – the last neighbors he had dealt with has seen fit to settle completely upon Donnelaith’s doorstep and use their resources. The liberties had been unwelcome by him, but it had not been his decision – he had scouted the adjacent territories before beginning an attempt to claim the forest, so he did not worry about his chosen home.
 
But that did not mean this other wolf was comfortable with what proximity may be between them.
 
Sweeping forward from the shadows that played along the crimson tipped trees, Constantine announced his own presence with a rough bark, though his form was held with a demanding neutrality as he emerged to study the other. His fiery eyes remained stoical as he took in the others presence, and canting his muzzle only faintly, he waited for a moment, waiting to see what the other would say.