As one the white and copper went down, Marsh's eager jaws having found flesh to rip as a happy bonus. He had seen the automatic surprise and fear in the male's eyes as he jerked around to see Marsh, but he also saw the way in which the larger wolf controlled himself, readied himself, and Marsh let him stand, taking his own steps back to stand between the trespasser and Cali, who clearly had not been a match for him. She was not ready yet. There was no need to watch as she got torn up by a time-waster like this.

This, though - this was the first time any of the traitors' followers had fought back, had shown teeth. The bitch by the riverbank had fled; the two who had strolled so far into their territory, they had fled too. Marsh had thought it some kind of diversion tactic, perhaps simply scoping out Swift River's defences and readiness to protect itself. Well, they would have found neither lacking, Marsh was sure. He had made sure of it.

The trespasser's jaws opened and lunged, and Marsh's response was to mirror it, two sets of teeth coming at each other - his foe's found the flesh at his cheek, the longer fang leaving an angry red line and Marsh expected his own to do the same, but he twisted his head in order to try and clamp down on the thicker, longer fur at the edge of his cheek below his ear, and yank out a clump of white fur. If flesh came with it, then all the better.

They came together like glaciers vying for position: the overloud crack of slick teeth on teeth, the sharp catch as one of March's fangs tore through soft tissue below Vafri's right eye. Fine beads of blood welled up over black skin and white fur, and Vafri's head jerked up and to the left - stupidly. His attacker aimed efficiently, ruthlessly, and dug its own teeth into the lean block of muscle just behind Vafri's head, beneath the oversized ear. Panic latched on; his windpipe was a breath away and other more important things besides, and with the female snarling inept from the sidelines stimulation passed the thresholed Vafri deemed acceptable. With a strangled noise somewhere between a yelp and a snarl he reared and scrabbled with his forelimbs as his blunt nose angled down and teeth snapped feverishly for whatever part of Marsh they might reach - ears probably, little scrapes on top of the head. Vafri had never been a warrior; he hadn't even come to fight, certainly not to die over nothing because the river pack was filled with zealots. As Vafri skittered back, away, his shoulder throbbed and dark eyes narrowed to catch the trickle of blood through thick fur. He felt the same warm droplets now accumulating on his upper lip and snarled and limped back with haste now, turning to present the stranger with his hip - if nothing more than buffer to protect the white wolf's face and throat. "I think... that's quite enough for now." he couldn't keep the sting from his tone even as he trotted away, dark eyes thrown over the undamaged shoulder to watch Marsh, ears erect but the other beast never spoke, never did anything but maul. Vafri was not stupid enough to pause, but he did anyway for half a moment, his expression one of hurt and then naked anger even if he did call all this down upon himself. "Your hospitality leaves something to be desired." He didn't wait for a retort; he glanced back at Marsh, expecting those teeth again in earnest, and knowing his own limbs were faster even if his wiry strength was no match for that bundle of muscle and raw fury. Some pack. His shoulder would plague him all the way back. Some pack. Best to start running now.

The hold was good. Marsh clamped down hard, wanting to be left with a mouthful of bloody fur once they parted, and when the larger male lashed out - seemingly out of desperation more than anything - Marsh let loose a rumbling growl before jerking away, his prize in his mouth. The trespasser knew when it was a lost cause, and Marsh did not stop the beast from turning and skipping back towards the border, though he did not let it happen without ceremony; head high, eyes wide and wild, the copper beast took a few authoritative steps in 'pursuit', tail raised tight over his back.

The white wolf looked back and said something unimportant, and Cali returned the favour, the strength in her voice enough to sate Marsh that her reply was of an adequate nature. Marsh's own retort was not so complex; the thunder in his chest rose a notch, daring the trespasser to come back and try again. He had been the first to fight back, but not with much bravery; perhaps this really had been a test. Had Swift River passed, or were they to expect more violence in the coming days? Marsh was sick of their disgusting pack scent, and he sick of their belief that they could walk all over his pack.

They could not. He would not let them.

White fur still sticking out from between his clenched teeth, Marsh took one final step forwards, placing himself once more between the two white wolves. He would defend those who were under his protection - and, especially as the Second, that was everybody.

He stung, sore in ways that recalled a life so recently abandoned. As Vafri blinked and wrinkled his nose at the blood working down his cheek the she-wolf spoke, and he answered with an angry snort, a flash of dark eyes. One day she would be alone and somebody would take advantage of her brash stupidity, but while the mountain of silence and anger stood between them Vafri knew better than to teach her a lesson himself. He didn't appreciate the thought of sticking around and letting the other male tear out more chunks of fur either, no matter how warm things got down here. With a last grimace and a shake of his head the white wolf skipped - limped - back through the trees and back toward his mountain and put off worrying on how to explain his wounds until another time.

The bravery reserves were depleted it seemed, or perhaps the white wolf had simply gotten a taste of common sense - or perhaps his task was fulfilled? The latter notion was extremely troubling, and Marsh was all the happier (in the loosest sense of the word) for the small piece of evidence he held in his mouth. Swift River would know the troubles that their rivals were causing. They would be informed, and next time one of Rhysis or Naira's followers decided to try their luck, they would be ready.

He did not take much heed when Cali glanced over him, but when she approached, head low and offering a lick to his chin, he took the attention with satisfaction. He was not arrogant of the fact that he had defended her from potential harm; it was simply his duty. That she appreciated it, though, and was able to show proper respect, did please him. It had been all he ever wanted. He took the time to look her over, then, to make sure that she was similarly unharmed, and saw it was true. Her efforts to communicate her wellbeing did not go unnoticed, either.

He decided then that her first impression had been somewhat... misrepresentative. She was not like so many of the other females. Perhaps, finally, Swift River had found itself someone with Second potential. But he had neither the time nor frame of mind to ponder it much further; the anger from the trespasser's insolence still ran thick in his veins, his heart beating a powerful tune despite the fact that the actual scuffle had been extremely brief.

He was tired of all these insults to his pack. It was time to start putting them to an end.

Huffing at Cali, the copper wolf jerked his head in the direction of the den, the thin red mark down his cheek utterly forgotten. Likely it would not even scar. With determination in his movements, Marsh turned and started towards the heart of the territory, intending for Cali to follow.