I cannot fault him entirely for his behavior for I understand it well enough. Yet, I do not allow it to slip by unnoticed - he moves between she and I and I instinctively side step into a new position, able to once more see Seraphina unobstructed. Yet, I do not move closer. I understand that much but he has no right, after all, of completely barring me from a wolf that has eaten the foods of Glorall and used our protection for years before his arrival. Ah, now this is winter: tension from every wolf who draws breath. It comes as no surprise that I have grown more and more weary and tired of each winter as they come for this very reason. At least the woman, Seraphina, does not hold that same tension it seems - if anything, she seems far too enthralled with this stranger to even find it within herself. Good, then it shall remain as such lest he choose a different path.

She does as she pleases, chewing into and dismantling the vole, but he takes it upon himself to speak nonetheless. His words lift a brow but I only give him a smirk, amused but not entirely in a positive way. He has already given me much more than a name could ever - she is, this woman, his imprint or so his words would have me believe. Others speak of imprints in such terms, after all, though I have never found myself relating to it. In any case, I'm not entirely bothered by his attitude - defensive, most likely, for I have no doubt he can see he is in a more precarious position than I.

"Is it tradition among your kin to trespass and expect hospitality?" My words are not particularly biting but I am not wholly friendly either - mild, I suppose, is one way of putting it, though my brow shoots up in inquiry (and in the most mundane effort to make my comment more jesting as one might say). "Ah, quam novis," I muse to myself, "do not fret. I have no interest in winter or she. Lower your guard or I shall raise mine." Besides, she is blood to me, a niece at that, though I do suppose that is one thing I cannot tell entirely. But it is not a threat and I do offer him a grin of sorts, small but there. We both know why the tension exists. Can he move beyond it, I wonder?