The scent and sound of another riding towards the borders hit her simultaneously, and immediately she felt a turning in her stomach. Whatever this was, it was not good. She raised her tail and ears in curiousity and defense as a large man rode up to the borders, his eyes smoldering and his muscles tensed in seeming anger and rage.
As he dismounted, his tail raised, giving off an even angrier expression than before. Swiftly, Skye shifted Esmeralda so that she was holding both pups with one arm, and took out her knife. It would be difficult, if not impossible, to fight with her pups, but she would set them down if she needed to defend them. This man clearly was angry, and out for blood.
He demanded that he speak with Skye Collins. Skye immediately snarled loudly, the feral growl ripping through the air with a dominant feeling to it, attempting to force the angry male into submission. Her tail raised, her ears perked high, and she took on a defensive stance, holding her knife close to her in case she needed to fight. The pups, sensing the tension, began to cry.
"I am Skye Collins," she snarled. "What do you want, and why do you approach my packlands so hostile?"
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