don't expect me to cry

Merrick didn't rely on anyone for anything. At least, he didn't used to. He'd always been rather self sufficient. Now that there was a pack present and he didn't have to, why in the hell should he work so hard for himself now? That didn't mean that he denied all of his instincts and it didn't mean that he was lazy. It simply meant that he had wolves to take advantage of when he felt the need or desire.

Having felt the urge to kill something, Merrick had gone off to hunt. He moved towards the Sound, knowing that few wolves would bother with the place. By the time he was finished, the giant brute had brought down a caribou and had filled his belly with rich, warm meat. He hadn't bothered dragging the rest back. Let the scavengers have a meal and let him save his neck muscles from the awkward pulling that he would have to do. Satisfied and full, he would be in a much better mood when he made his way back home. Hell, he might even be nice to Keelin.

In a somewhat decent mood, Merrick still scowled when he saw a wolf sitting there. His amaranthine brow furrowed, only smoothing a bit when he noted that the wolf shared his blood. Never one to beat around the bush, he took one look at the girls pensive expression and growled, "You look like someone pissed on your dinner." That was the closest he'd ever get to asking her what was on her mind.

"Merrick Mendacium"