Dragoncrest Cliffs & waves don't make a sailor of me,

Artaax was weary still that day, but things like that rarely stopped him from his work. With the return of their unwelcome neighbors, the young lion had doubled his effort to keep their borders protected and their end of the beach secure. It was more often than not very boring work, which was unfortunate considering how eager he was for a distraction from his wandering thoughts. Still, it was necessary work, and Artaax was nothing if not a dutiful soldier.

He did not immediately recognize the other wolf on his shores as a packmate when he first spotted her. His hackles rose and his frown deepened as he stalked towards her. He watched her attempt to catch a bird and felt indignation rising in his chest - a feeling that didn't entirely dissipate even after he caught her scent on the wind and learned that she was his packmate and not a trespasser. If anything, it only deepened his aggravation. First off, he didn't like strangers even when they were amongst his ranks. Second, he hated seeing a hunt fail where he would've succeeded.

The feisripa stalked towards her. He took in a breath as he moved and adjusted his expression to its usual emptiness just as he fixed his gaze upon her. It was well in place by the time he had closed the distance between them, though his eyes were slightly more narrowed than usual. "If you don't know how to catch it, then leave them for those who do," he said, his voice deep and soft and tinged only slightly with annoyance.