you want me to walk her like she's your dog?

She had finally found the straw that would break the camel's back. As soon as the muttering words turned hopefully sassy, Wilder's ear fly backward, lips rippling upward into a sneer. He suddenly pushes away from the cot, leaving her wounds open and without bandages. Rising to his paws, he stalks away from her as his scruff and the fur lining his back begin to bristle and puff up. Unable to hold back the growl, he walks - no he stomps over to the cabinet, quickly swiping a bottle of rubbing alcohol and takes it back to her cot. Tossing it roughly on the space beside her, he levels her with a hard, annoyed, and 'I'm so done with it' stare.

"Happy?" He snaps, lips lifting to reveal his teeth. "Not even sure if the whole slave thing is true anymore. Maybe yer jus' usin' it as a cover up to get attention, yeah?" Wilder snarls now, fed up with her attitude and snotty demeanor. "I ain' been nothin' but nice to ya an' that's how ya wanna go treatin' me? Bitin' the paw that helps? Not so bright are ya?" He continues, teeth practically clacking together as he bristles beside her. It wasn't often he truly got upset at others, but she had gone one step too far.

Unable to calm down or really know a positive way to do so, he turns on his heels and moves over to another cot on the far side of the room. Slumping down onto it to prevent himself from actually smacking some sense into it, he places his chin atop his paws and stares at the dried herb filled way. Snapping at her hadn't been a great idea, but physically harming her would've made him just as bad as the others. Which he would prove (for some reason he wasn't sure why) he was actually better than them.

WILDER