Stavanger Bay champions of the just

Rosalyn had come here already in a mood and this was doing nothing to ease it.  She wasn't aggressive, not yet... but nothing about her spoke friend.  She wondered briefly who she might be mistaken for, but dismissed it... there were no doubt shit loads of russet wolves within these wilds.  Her scars would make short work of the difference.

You welcome me as if you own this place, she answered, chosing to chase this second thread instead.  But I do not scent a pack here.  Just a couple wolves keen on setting boundaries.

Bounds they could enforce?  Her eye betrayed her skepticism.