Porcupine Ridge For a mother, a brother and me

Others arrived, mostly on the Porcupine Ridge side of things, and Farstep appraised the opposing wolves who came to pester the resident wolf pack. A young male and an even younger male, by the smell of them, and then a savage black beast that charged for Taggarik without much thought for the situation. Farstep positioned himself to intervene, yawning wide his jaws in anticipation, but a sharp bark (what he heard) from the group's lead bitch brought to the black beast to rein and his readiness was for nothing. The guardian pressed his ears forward and set his stance defensively, and from that moment on, his eyes never left Noctura's as he expressed his displeasure, his dominance and his hatred all at once.

The crackly, gravelly sound of Capriccio's voice sounded from somewhere nearby, and then the deeper rumble of Taggarik's voice met the air. He could tell that they were vocalizing in the curious manner of wolves in this region, in the manner he didn't understand, if only because his time among the Ridge wolves had brought him into contact with their brand of communication enough times that he could hear a subtle difference. The growls were less cacophonous, more deliberate. The grumbles and grunts seemed better placed. It was all still a jumble to him, but for once, he knew exactly what was happening: the Ridge wolves were taking a stand, albeit a non-violent one, against their inconsiderate neighbours.