Still she said nothing, just hovered there in his peripheral like some judgmental ghost. Didn’t she have anything better to do then to watch over him with those all too seeing eyes of hers? He huffed again, sighed, and dragged himself into a sit up position, his lame leg dragging forward in its cast. He scowled at it, and hoped Io wouldn’t see the places where he had chewed at in his frustration to get it off, and to get at the itchy spots of skin.
Dammit why was she so silent? It was driving him crazy. ”What??” he grumbled, looking at her again. Looking at her, looking at his cast, looking at her. A slow, sly grin crawled up his muzzle. If he was going to have a rotten, boring time, then he might as well make something of it. He wondered at which point she clicked, and what the smaller wolf would do to stop him? he was gleeful at the idea of finding out, as he buried his head downwards and started to tear at the cast in an attempt to pull it off.
Bloodletter
