ick and slide

Wendigo couldn't help the crack of laughter that erupted from him at the boy's words. Not at all offended by the idea that he was being accused of smelling like a week old corpse, no, just thoroughly convinced that it was just mud and not corpse because he hadn't been in one for a week. "Oh, ho, not for a whole week eh?" He grinned back at the kid. Gross, yeah, but hey he was a funny guy and far from boring. With a purely internal sigh he voluntarily stepped closer, tilting his head to study the scrawny gangly adolescent. Man, if those markings weren't so extensive and so pale the kid could almost have been his, which was a weird thought and made him freeze mentally a moment. Kids, shit, he probably would have to have those someday. It's not like he didn't... like kids or anything, hell most of the wolves he'd met and enjoyed their company since he'd returned had been yearlings or younger and Marrow was probably the best friend he'd ever had, but yikes, kid kids? Woof. Scary thought. Shaking it off he nudged the smelly kid's shoulder, knocking off some mud, and laughed again. "Have you ever considered swimming? You know, for... exercise?" And to reduce the smell of old death. "Anyway - I'm Wendigo Saxe. What's your name, kid? Ripper, you said?" He assumed the kid was referring to himself, anyway, though the third person threw Wendigo off a bit. Actually not bad, got people all off balance when they meet you, don't know how to deal with you. It wasn't his bag of tea, but he wouldn't knock it.