The most unfortunate thing had finally occurred. It was his own fault, as much as it pained him to think so. His adventure to the west had been harrowing and filled with stress; the arrival of wolves to the valley had gone unnoticed until that very moment where Hassun had deigned to investigate. And now, having sought out his old hunting grounds and the company of his wives, he found this. A wolf had decided to slip in to his precious territory and he hadn't been around to prevent it - but Hassun wasn't afraid. He could deal with one measly wolf.
From his hiding place among the tangled roots of his favorite trees, he could see her. A ruddy red figure pressing her ugly hide all over the bark. He knew what that meant, and he would not allow this bitch to lay claim to an area that was already under control. Only one predator could survive - or so Hassun believed - and it was with this no-nonsense attitude that he would face the stranger. If he couldn't stop her now, she'd surely go back to the west and find more wolves to aid her; they ran in packs, after all.
While the stranger busied herself with propagating her heinous claim, Hassun left the roots behind. He crept toward her with as much fervor as he could while remaining silent - his paws carefully placed, knowing exactly which animal trails to follow in order to navigate around the wolf so that he could arrive behind her. This was his land and he wouldn't let it go without a fight. The anger within him boiled within his very blood, drawing out his claws as he got nearer, and caused a low warning to bellow from his chest. In his agitated state, the lynx erroneously warned the encroaching animal of his presence too early.