Greatwater Lake libellula

zharille watches the stranger; she feels a little safer with selena alongside her, but also more protective, and moves a step closer to place herself between the stranger and the songbird - even pregnant, zharille's natural tendency to use her bulk is hard to ignore. she can be a wall, even if it places her unborn in danger (a fact she doesn't truly recognize yet).

the stranger turns and for a moment all the wolves gathered are sizing one-another up. zharille has already made her assumptions, and her own bristling becomes more apparent; she lets her rumbling get louder, ignoring what the stranger is saying (mostly because she doesn't speak herself, and understands only a few words of what have been uttered).

her teeth flash and her tail arcs over her back.

this lake is mine, declares her posture. the stranger's scent is more dry, and she is reminded of the mesa and the menfolk that keep traipsing close; one man who swept khaba away, the other a boy who they managed to chase off. was this one of them? zharille wasn't sure — the woman's scent had more pine notes, rather than dust.

bold of them to come close, regardless, and to try and claim the lake when there were many already living at its bank.