Redsand Canyon They're throwing bottles at your house.

Oooohh if Donovan weren't here. 
Rib be damned, and Alliance certainly be damned. 
To be fair, perhaps the grey oaf was that stupid. Maybe he hadn't heard her when she had announced herself as a leader of this pack? His companion, nervous and twitchy, certainly looked like there was two squirrels chasing each other in place of a brain. 
She draws herself up, ready to strike, ready to shut him up when Donovan speaks again, asserting her position, and imposing on their hunt. 
Finally. Progress being made. This was why she respected- adored, really, her partner. While she was teeth and nastiness and manipulation, he was strength, confidence, and leadership. 
"We'll take the lead. Seeing as these are our lands. When the prey is down, I advise you don't linger. Take what you need and leave. Scurry back to whatever damp hole you crawled out of."