Jude doesn't really have to engage his sentinel for others around him to feel it. It's a part of who he is, as easy to notice as his height, but oh. He can lean on it.

Marcus pushes out with his dominance, and Jude feels it around him, crackling and crashing like thunder, warning and ward. He's strong. It's no wonder he's Danny Phantoming it.

Sucks.

So Jude lets the dominance pass harmlessly through him, big and loud and without the bite that by all rights should accompany it, and leans on his sentinel.

Where Marcus might be a storm, Jude's an undertow. A deep leviathan passing far below, churning the current of the world around them. It doesn't push, doesn't drown, but it could.

"This land isn't yours, Marcus," Jude says, his voice a low register. His irises haven't changed. They're still the same warm human brown. "It belongs to the Yellowstone pack. You could be a part of that, if you wanted. But you don't get to keep it from us."

There's nothing of anger or threat there. But he does refuse to move.