Sweater Weather

The greyscale wolf was curt in his reply. "No." he lowered himself to rest on his belly, leaving himself vulnerable to attack. “I’m a healer, I came to help you.” he added, dark tipped tail resting lazily on the ground. This was the first healer that the male had met who was not one of his new masters. The ebony wisp examined him cautiously. The freckles around his eyes and nose mimicked the strange way his eyes were coloured. “I brought this for you.”

As the male leaned over to turn his hips out, the younger male watched warily. Could this be a trick? He was so hungry. The lounging posture was similar to how Epitaph tended to arrange himself, as it was more difficult to get truly comfortable when his lame leg was bent beneath himself. When the odd-eyed wolf turned his gaze away to idly look about, he tentatively rose. Slipping his hind legs beneath himself, and rising up. He towered over the stranger, and he wasn't sure he enjoyed the notion. Slaves were meant to be small and meek. To be large meant that you were a threat.

There was a fair amount of distance between the paler wolf and the hare. When he extended his snout to grab hold of one of the small limbs, he was less worried about the chance of a nip or a growl. He dragged the carcass back towards his bush, and settled back down a foot or so from where he had been resting before. Before he tucked into the meal, he glanced at the stranger. For a few seconds, he hesitated. Stared blankly. Then, a soft rasp of "thank you, sir."