Sweater Weather

To call this a nap would be incorrect. He was simply.. lounging. In the dappled light of a sunbeam, he let the warmth soak into his bones. It felt nice. In, out, in, out, went his breath. Shallow against the potential for pain in his healing ribs. A scent stirred in his nostrils, canine. Acidic green eyes flickered open, seeking out the potential threat. A small figure slipped through the fronds, clutching a rabbit in their jaws. Smaller than he was, and so far the only wolf he'd met who didn't tower over him entirely. The male dropped the hare in between them both, staring warily at him with the same stance that Epitaph tended to use. “Hello.” he said softly, not moving a muscle. There was a gentle, warm smile on his face. “Are you Epitaph?”

The charcoal male bobbed his head wordlessly, glancing behind the smaller male. Was someone coming behind him to oversee their encounter? Perhaps one of his masters? No one arrived, but the scent of the hare began to drift into Epitaph's nose. It smelled fantastic, and he was definitely hungry. Regardless, he would not dare to take it. That would not end well for him, if one of his masters arrived. "Do you need something from me?" he rasped quietly, ears flicking back with trepidation.