The Tangle i’m in trauma it’s got me singing-

Mallaidh holds her ground despite the tension that aches her shoulder. At most, she is aware of it, but they have something to protect now and until their borders are secure, they have wolves like this to face. She speaks and makes no sense, as if she’s answering a different question, but she does back up against their presence. She strains not to look to her side at her pack mate, keeping hardened green eyes on the stranger.

“Ours,” she insists. “Not yours.” Does she not understand the question? She thinks, for a moment, maybe it is a Trigeda wolf but there’s nothing else to back it up. “More what?”