Altar of Twilight got a hardwired metal soul

Tehama's snow-dusted fur remained stiffly bristled along her spine as the shadow-hued stranger rejected her assertion.  They would have to disagree on the issue, for the Moonspear wolf decidedly did think this was close to claimed lands.  The male's condescending tone did nothing to assuage Te's irritation, nor did the actual words he spoke.  Tvarog was the mouthful of a name he offered, and the pale tawny woman snorted faintly through her nose at his profanity-laced question.  

"I am Tehama of Moonspear," she said, drawing out the pack's name pointedly, and beckoning with her muzzle to where the spire of that mountain was visible between the bare tree boughs, its snow-capped reaches reflecting the moon and starlight.  "I am prickly because Moonspear and Firefly Glen both are claimed pack lands.  It is but a technicality that our borders do not encompass this land also."  She lifted her head, proud of her pack and their extended family within the Glen.  She recalled what Hydra had said about strangers utilizing resources that rightfully ought to be theirs, and wondered just what this wolf was doing here in the night.  Just wandering, or poaching, also?  "Even a vagrant like yourself must have some manners," she rebuked, taking a wager when she could not smell a discernable pack scent upon his coat, "and admit that this is our figurative doorstep that you're wandering through."  Certainly she had given other packs a wider berth in her own travels.  She narrowed her silver gaze, wondering what irksome thing the male might say next.