Blacktail Deer Plateau grab a cup of coffee for your head

He was older, this silver-tipped stranger, though not by much. Despite the bold platinum that he could see peppered over lean shoulders, no ashen hairs seemed to have grown on his muzzle. A wolf who was alone but very much in his prime, and probably not one he wanted to mess with.

Venamis parted his jaws in preparation to bark something snippy in response to the rogue's question, but promptly shut his mouth at the sight of a child. It lingered by the other male's paws, uncertain, and its stare unnerved him. The young loner glared right back, his eyes hollow, before the cub broke that gaze. He lifted his chin and exhaled with a frustrated huff. "No," he rumbled, and shifted his weight to veer away and disappear through the foliage.