he's hot, but smells like a wet dog

Finally taking a moment to gather his baring of the island, the whole of the terrain consisted of some sort of black rock, volcanic? The plant life here was certainly...something else, spiky and sharp, vivid greens, reds and pinks, like someone had just thrown the colours about with no care about cohesion. They had an almost sickly sweet scent, though in the distance one seemed to smell-he almost gagged. He'd smelled some nasty shit in his time, but that? Ugh, words didn't even describe it and thankfully the wind chased the scent off in a different direction or else he would have just leapt back into the sea.

His analysis of the terrain was quickly cut short by an unwelcome guest. Naturally.

With his wounds still stinging, he stared deadpan as the pup rattled on- speaking so fast it was hard to catch what he was saying.

"No." Was his knee-jerk response, with about the same energy a father who'd been dragged around a shopping centre by his wife and four screaming kids could muster. He was just that done.