Barrow Fields i am fire bleeding smoke

The wind is whispering across the meadow with variegated intensities, and during one such gust he catches the scent of musk, which urges him to lift his head. The crown of his skull pokes through the reeds first - and with a small turn of his attention, his gaze siezes upon a lupine shape. The face is obscured; this makes him curious, so he steps out from his lurking spot — only to feel inclined to look another direction, just to catch another creature in his periphery.
They seem to be surrounding him.
This is something he does not like, and moves so that he may keep an eye on the female with her dark face and yellowed eyes, and the yearling. He wonders if they are related, if they are protective and familial, putting him at a distinct disadvantage if they seek him out. Otherwise, Firuz merely waits with his body ready to retaliate - he is not known to flee from battle, and doubts he would let himself be run off by a mother and her whelp no matter the circumstances.