Whiskey Tango Foxtrot

ORWYND
everyone who isn't me is an enemy

Orwynd could not help the shudder that raked through his body as the she-wolf poured something across his neck. The slick mucus type liquid caused his toes to wriggle in discomfort, but he held still long enough for her to finish her application. Orwynd you fucking idiot. The wolf thought, awfully flustered at being the damsel in distress. While he was not a heroic wolf and would most likely leave a lady to her own demise, he didn’t quite fancy being the butt of this joke.

"Alright twist slowly to the left and push yourself backwards."

Just as he began to pull he felt the female press herself between the metal sheet of the ship and the bulk of his chest. A tremor passed through his body again. She was tiny. Fearing the worst, Orwynd leaned back with all his might, squeezing his eyes tightly as a deep burning etched into the soft flesh behind his ears. With a loud and unceremonious pop! Orwynd flung backward into the snow landing sloppily onto his rump. His fur was slicked every which way, adding to his disheveled appearance. A line of beaded blood formed at the split in his skin past his ear, and he scraped at it with his paw.

Momentarily blinded by the reflective snow, Orwynd blinked hard and eyed the female wolf as his vision adjusted. His fears manifested in a look of bewilderment and revulsion. She was practically a newborn. I can’t believe I said that to a pup. The man recollected his earlier comment. Although it was an exaggeration, the girl was too young for his liking and was promptly crossed off the list of potential playthings. The man shook his head hard, standing and letting the motion sling snow and the viscous substance from his fur. “Thanks.” He said finally, fur plastered against his skin. “I guess I owe you one.” Not. The wolf said subconsciously. Orwynd nodded at the she-wolf’s little bag of trinkets and herbs. “What was that stuff?”