Mazarin had been training him to lead as the head of the kingdom - and yet this little disturbance countered every command he doled out, leaving him to grow further flustered. She had a point, but Sylvaine wasn't about to accept that fact. His eyes grew wide and then his brow furrowed, his face pinching with stern rigidity. Well, because... I.. You...
So much for his elocution lessons. You're a fox! This land behind me is owned by wolves, so naturally, you should not be here.
Yes, that was it. She was essentially prey; a little nuisance who would go diving through the borders in search of food that wasn't her's. He was only trying to protect his pack - but with a bit of grace and dignity, through words and not action.
Clearly this wasn't going to work out. The boy huffed softly to himself, casting a brief look upon the red-coated vulpine creature, and began to stride away from her. He looked for the path that had led him here, but seeing as he had traveled in a half-sleep, he recognized nothing. Ire and concern rose in him next, for he felt lost in this strange new place. How could he, the prince of the Black Mountain, be so utterly hopeless at his own survival? He was lost - again!