ick and slide

Wendigo watched with some bemusement as a kid covered in mud came bounding towards him - if the wind was any indication, a smelly muddy kid. A loud smelly muddy kid, apparently, who called out to him as soon as he was spotted. Rats. "Uh.. yeah, hey yourself, kid," he returned, lip curling half in disgust and half in amusement. Had the scrawny thing never heard of a bath? The wind gusted, making him cough slightly at the renewed scent. "Fuck, kid, you fucking reek like a week old maggoty carcass." Perhaps it would have been more diplomatic to be less blunt, but tact jad never been Wendigo's strong suit - all his diplomacy involved fang and claw.