Hoshor Plains You hit me once, I hit you back.

whatever was left of arktos' mercy, of his carefully curated patience is gone. he is tired of trespassers — far too many with the strength of the borders. and he is sure to keep a careful eye on the dark woman that slinks off. part of him itches to shadow her, wondering if she would continue to be a problem for yellowstone.

a problem he was going to have to deal with sooner rather than later.

he snorts noisily, like a enraged bull.

the next wolf to trespass on yellowstone's land will bleed.

with these, he stalks off towards the borders, following in the shadow woman's wake; a living storm wrapt in fur.