Big sopping wet cat

Griffith's eyes had drifted shut at some point and he'd started to doze, even despite the cold but he was brought back to the world of waking by an unfamiliar scent and sound. He half lifted one of his lids and searched for the source of the noise, what had disturbed his brief respite? A small canine figure approaching. Griffith closed his eye again and groaned internally, so maybe he was to die though not by his own paws but that of the scavengers. The sound stopped and things were silent for a moment. The man assumed the beast was approaching quietly in case he planned to run or was awake. But he never felt fangs digging into his flesh and finally he opened his eyes and lifted his head again to see the small figure was stopped mid-step.

"Fantastique..." He grumbled. "Just get it over with, I'm sure the colder and wetter I get the less good I'm gonna taste." He called out to the figure a... Woman? He'd only ever seen wolves on few occasions when visiting dignitaries brought any in their retinue with them. With his luck they didn't understand either language he spoke. Griffith dropped a forpaw over his eyes and laid his head back down.

- | movement | "Speech"  -