Slithering, slippery snake plants

The mumbled words by the boy in the mud drew Bancha's brows together in confusion. It sounded, from what he could understand, more like a riddle than anything he was intentionally supposed to hear. At first, Bancha is unsure of the boy before him. Uncertain if the wolf is even okay. It seemed they were exhausted, emaciated, and heck even a little delusional. When was the last time they'd had a meal? Worry begins to crease over his expression as he notices the boy finally place his attention back to him.

As much as Bancha wants to show the stranger the gems and treasures of the plains they stand in, he's far too concerned now for this wolf's wellbeing. Bancha steps closer, head lowering closer to the ground so he can get a better look at the weary and weathered wolf before him. "I worry for your wellbeing," Bancha insists, his voice tender and soft, slightly strained as he hovers a few inches away. "When did you last eat? I can help," he urges, insistent that he heal this wolf instead of delaying the inevitable...

BANCHA