It had been quite some time since Jefferson had thrown his voice at strangers. Husk had been sent away and never heard from again, while Whinifred had endured his crude shouting and stayed in the pack regardless (and continued to bug him, in fact). On top of it all, Jefferson was a bastard and an asshole, but he typically took lightly to strangers who respected their borders and seemed to be of no harm. He wasn't all monster, he was just partially such; there was a bit of compassion and sympathy within the one-eyed Patriarch, but unfortunately, it ran thin when it came to strangers roaming his packland.
Despite the rushing waters and the ocean breeze, Jefferson had picked up on an unfamiliar scent from a distance and promptly took off after it, two-legged and one-armed, only to find that its owner had wandered into the territory, presumably unnoticed. With the current struggles with Inferni and his children at his throat, the cyclops could take no risks: he found the stranger quickly and stopped him, a sharp and relentless look in his single green eye. "You'd better have a damn good reason to be traipsing on claimed land," the Patriarch snarled. "Start talking."