The click of the cup on the thin strip of not-ice around the rink echoed around the silent room. So did the stranger's voice. But sound distortion was not enough to throw off Jinn's focus. He kept the human in his sights, watching as he took a step closer, as he raised a hand. As he fixed him with a cautious stare.
Challenging, Jinn thought. He had entered with confidence and, though surprised to face an obstacle, it was not a deterrent. He must have come for the dead things. But those were Jinn's prey. And he would not part with them easily.
He snarled and prowled left, baring his formidable fangs, then right again, retracing his steps to form a barrier between the stranger and the bodies on the ice. The message would have been clear to a wolf: this is mine and you can't have it.