Greatwater Lake Vann

The woman barked to him. She demanded that he not stare at her. The dark wolf did not listen. Jörmungandr blinked once before stepping toward the ruddy-furred stranger. 

She was not like the wolves of his homeland. She was not Svartravn. Her undersides were tainted with pale hairs. The one-eyed wolf blinked again. Her russet nape had sprung to life, rigid and sharp. The man could not be certain if she wished to fight or if she believed he had robbed her of something. 

What is it I should do? Jörmungandr growled. His lip curled slightly, warning.