Tychon’s hostile gaze remained on the dwarf when his nose twitched with a new scent. One brown ear pivoted toward the sound of pads contacting the ground - lightly. It was really more the pattern of grass crunching that tipped him off to the strides. Though silent, the steps weren’t rushed. It was likely he wasn’t being charged… but his irritability worsened. Now he had to deal with two loners? Just great. He pivoted his head a few degrees to ascertain who he would be dealing with along side shrimpy.

She was tall and poised… and coming at him like she had a say in the matter at paw. Arrogant princess complex. It was just like that she-wolf, Aster, who had yowled at midnight for attention - and, mind you - expected to be welcomed. Stupid pack wolves; Tychon decided that white-faced female had been raised in a privileged pack-life. As expected, she began defending the stranger. His ears twitched forward in a half a moment of surprise at the rhymes. What was she?! An oracle or something? She reminded him briefly of Masque, who he reluctantly called a friend and who was annoyingly whimsical and optimistic. The association was conscious, but unconsciously, it caused him to dislike her less than before.

His ears flattened to the side when he realized what she’d done, which was give Tiny an opportunity to convince Tychon of letting him pass the border. He rushed to head off the matter, but all his voice box produced was a dry sigh. AAnndd, then there the male loner went with a claim of invitation. Dammit! Being forced to wait until he was finished because Tychon was incapable of talking over anyone now that his voice was ruined, Tychon rolled his eyes and flashed a tongue over his exposed gum line. He pinned the female with a death-glare.

The explanation the dwarf had was unconvincing to Tychon, who was certain the loner was scamming him. A name was easy enough to pick up if you knew the right wolves to gossip with. And this freak - of equal face ugliness - seemed capable of that. As his little speech came to a close, Tychon’s eyes refocused on him to observe the extensive scars of Tyrion's face because of the claim of similarity to Tychon. His skepticism faltered for a moment. But then, Tyrion looked away, which effectively (in Tychon’s mind), gave authority to the female. Was Tychon so easy to brush off?! Was he so meak-looking that a complete stranger could just waltz up and out rank him? Further more, disgust tangled into his emotions when the male’s eyes lingered on her in an admiring way - on the female who reminded him of Masque. Tychon barked a nasty, rasping noise that sprayed spit at the dwarf. In the same moment, he obstructed the view of the pesky old male and stepped protectively in front of the she-wolf.

“Keep your lech—er.. ouss…”, Tychon shouted in an strangled noise that, for a tone, sounded like a normal voice and then withered away into a whir. His chest shivered with the effort of wheezing air back into his winded pipes. The time it took forced his explosive anger back into a containable box and he whispered so he could produce more the only a few clipped words as he stepped forward, imposing his greater stature on the dwarf as he lowered his maw full of teeth toward Tyrion, ”…eyes to your worthless paws…” Tychon itched with aggression; he wanted this twerp to bite him… to give him a reason to attack. Somehow, Tychon didn’t think Tyrion would allow himself the pleasure.

OOC Note: The following would occur if both Butterfly and Tyrion choose to wait Tychon's fury out. Otherwise, please disregard the following. =)

If the dwarf did not attack, then with the next available breath, Tychon would finish in harsh, but quiet tones, “…and move them. Follow me.” With a hostile snort into the dwarf’s face, Tychon turned to lay displeased eyes on the female and added, ”You too.” He lumbered a few paces ahead, and paused a half step to listen for their paws before he continued up the maze of mountain paths. He hoped Kalseru gutted the pair of them.