Seaside Moors I'm scared of the long nights and the darkness

At first, Nieve didn't notice the rock-coloured she-wolf lounging on the moor. She might not have remarked Norah at all if not for the prickling of her guard hairs, which never failed to rise when she felt eyes upon her back. Nieve gradually slowed to a moderate lope and then wheeled around, setting deep blue eyes on the stranger who followed her.

Never one to leap to conclusions, Nieve fixed Norah first with a questioning gaze, but was on high alert for any sign of hostility. The moors were freshly marked, although she could excuse a wolf for being a little disbelieving of a brand new, recent claim. Nevertheless, she canted her muzzle upward and said, in as firm a voice as she could manage, you shouldn't be here. These are claimed lands.

Nieve wasn't aggressive enough to launch an attack, and it was in her nature to give others the benefit of the doubt... but even she didn't like seeing someone who definitely wasn't part of Rusalka gallivanting around in their new territory like this.