not a grocery store rotisserie chicken to be found

Wilder isn't the most observant wolf when it comes to other wolves and their body languages. What with being hardly raised at all by anyone, he's had to scrape by with the whole social interaction nonsense. The best of what he's got is be friendly until they're not and you'll get by just fine. So far, the rule has worked out so far and appeared to be working in this moment as well. So even though he doesn't notice her tension easing away, he does listen to her friendly words, his tail wagging a few times in silent response. They did have a task at paw to focus on!

As she continues to speak, he turns his gaze back toward the pools with their feathery prey waiting to be hunted. Even as the geyser bursts once more, he tries not to start at the sound. It was definitely something he would have to get used to if they were going to hunt so close to it. Wilder watches it like she does though as his fur and muscles settle back down, noticing how the bird's wing is clipped, forcing it to dart away in panic.

He's still watching the bird when he notices her staring at him with that wicked grin. Meeting her excited gaze, he begins to nod slowly. Ah yes, that actually was quite a smart idea! "Winner, winner, chicken dinner indeed," Wilder says in return as his own charcoal lips pull up into a smile. "If yer want, I'll jus' follow yer lead," he motions his muzzle toward the small flock of birds that mill around a pool's edge. "I'm a much better follower than a leader," Wilder gives her that kind of dummy smile that you can't help but find adorable.