ten feet under and upside down

A small part of Charon felt empathic towards the girl when she seemed startled and said that she was trying to keep warm. But whatever, she shouldn't do it on his borders. He couldn't find any scents of a different pack on her, so he wasn't sure if she was a loner or not (then again, the rain could've washed any scents off), but she seemed pretty useless to Charon. Just all curled up, clattering her teeth; she looked like she was just waiting for death, or whatever.

Charon didn't even puff his tail or heighten his head; she was such a miserable heap of fur that he didn't really think he needed to assert his dominance anyway. "Here?" he asked sceptically. "This is Stavanger Bay. You're sitting on my borders." Charon figured he ought to make it clear that this was his pack, or she might think he was just another young guy who lived here. She needed to know he was one of its leaders.

"And I'm here patrolling my borders." It didn't really needed to be said after what he'd previously said, but he did so anyway. Charon's voice was filled with disapproval as he watched her. "We've got enough trouble as it is with the storms, so I don't want you snooping around my lands unless you're planning to make yourself useful."