Stavanger Bay Don't touch me you peasant

The moment their eyes met he shifted in form and nature from a calm wolf and into a striking viper. She was lucky she had hot strayed within the ashen male's grasp, as she felt certain now that the defensive wolf might have snapped at her with the intention of driving her off. The glint in his eyes was feral and hungry, the snarl on his features accentuated by the shining beads of blood that frosted his whiskers. 

Chacal nimbly sidestepped away, tail immediately dropping to sway at her hocks, so she would be ready to dash away in an instant if he lunged at her in earnest. But he did not seem keen to abandon his meal, even to chase off a potential intruder. She'd been startled- and the fur along her shoulderblades had lifted slightly- but she did little to respond to the brute's savage greeting that might intentionally fan the flames. 

Her expression was optimistic still, her gaze curious. She wanted to knew where he was from, as he smelled very briney. Those she knew, who bathed in the ocean's waters, were kindred spirits. A bit rough around the edges at times, but family nonetheless. His guard hairs were silvered- but looked almost dusty from the dried salt. 

He'd caught the rabbit not far from the pond he'd been drinking from before, and Chacal licked her lips- an indication she was thirsty, as she began to snake her way toward the pool of cool, fresh water, hoping he might relax when he saw she had no intentions of robbing him of his meal.