Blacktail Deer Plateau I'm not actually sure what a movie is anymore

The stranger was going about his business, probably doing a patrol of the empty territory. Reyes wondered about who he was, where he'd come from — and most importantly, how he kept himself fed and healthy. If he was a new addition to their collective, who the hell thought that was a good idea? The guy was huge; he could eat them out of house and home if he put his mind to it, especially considering the disadvantages the food shortage was presenting. The rest of them were accustomed to fish-heavy diets and could subsist well enough on less than what the average wolf consumed, but then there was this guy, muscle-bound and clearly not designed for the coast.

Reyes continued to study the way they moved, looking utterly bored until the stranger's attention drifted to the trees, and then to him. They locked eyes for a moment or two; a thin aura of disdain began to seep from Reyes, the corners of his mouth curling slightly as he frowned, though there was no malice in the expression. Just an intense lethargy, a disinterest, and then he said the first thing that popped in to his head: Who the fuck are you? The emphasis wasn't in his words, though. Almost as if there were an undercurrent within them that said, as if I should care.