Redsand Canyon They're throwing bottles at your house.

Donovan sees the figures from good distance away. So many jumbled into one spot makes him curious as to what’s going on. Obviously, he goes to investigate.

Urging himself into a brisk trot, he makes it there in no time. His hulking form comes up to the bunch. His black tongue such a stark and different contrast with the sun as it lulls out of his mouth. Licking his chops, he slips it back into his maw and his golden eyes lock into the first wolf that catches his undivided attention. Revui, a large, powerful beast just like himself. Yet his fur is of ashen grays and dim silvers. His blood is surely pure wolf if Donovan has anything to say about it. But his eyes aren’t the only thing taking in important details. A black leathery nose inhaling breath fulls of his interesting scent, catching a hint of what Donovan removers to be Merrick’s scent. The devious coy slips itself in his mind briefly as he connects the two. Yes, this is a member of Merrick’s pack. Judging by the last words he hears him speak to Nemisis. 

His body language is confident, head held high, and canary hues dead set on the other. Holding eye contact in a dominant posture, he steps in between the male and his Overseer. Looking to him as if it is a dare to touch a member of his pack aggressively. 
He knows the smaller male to the right of him isn’t any thread due to the hesitant uneasiness that projects on his face. Nemisis is just behind him, but he pays no mind to her yet. 

He tilts his chin up in a single nod of acknowledgment to the metallic wolf across from him. “A member of Merrick’s pack, no? I smell him on you — overheard your little conversation.” He comments to him. “If you’re unaware, our packs are allies; do not threaten us.” He says the words sternly, before his own orbs glance to Nemisis. “I’m sure she said her own share of threats.” Eyes go back to Revui. “Whatever you’re here for I will allow it. If it is to hunt we’re more than willing to share our cache with an ally. All I ask is that you know your place here in our canyon — a friendly visitor.” Donovan smiles toward the end, white fangs gleaming off of the harsh sunlight. “So play nice.” He ends casually, though the undertones of his voice speak strength and assertiveness, he remains calm. Then he looks to Nemisis. “Both of you.”

Then, Donovan finally sets his eyes on the smaller male. Eyeing him with a curious expression then flicking back to Revui. “What’re your names?” He asks with a casual demeanor. Not threatening, but not completely dismissive.