Phoenix Maplewood before we talk of war

Shale, too, was hunting on the outskirts of the maplewood, and the unfamiliar scent brought his hackles up immediately. A growl bubbling in his throat, the man left the trail he was pursuing to intercept the stranger, a furious trot carrying his legs forward through the brush. Flashes of silver through the greenery caught his eye, and he burst through, coming face-to-face with the other.

"Leave," he said shortly, firming his jaw. "These are my family's hunting grounds. You are not welcome here." Shale jerked his head toward the outside, away from the plains, indicating that the man should go as soon as he could, else he would not be met with words.

Filthy opportunists. He understood the plight of the pale wolves, but loners coming to and fro, settling down in the forest like they owned the place? Teekon was a vast place; there were plenty of places to hunt. And this man, to his knowledge, didn't have eight small pups to worry after. Shale was tired of chasing off vagabonds. He was just. . .tired.