pumpKEN spice season

The response and continuation of piss on the spire made his ears flatten and eyes narrow. Who was this guy and who did he think he was? Not that Maelstrom had been taught to be respectful or anything - or really parented at all, but this just seemed downright disrespectful? Perhaps it was the wailing of the wind or the look of terror on the carving's face that convinced him. Snorting indignantly through his nostrils in response, the pup rolls his eyes and waits for the stream of yellow to stop before he moves any closer.

"Mm, no," Maelstrom responds, his icy blue gaze glancing around. "Just got here," he adds on, not noticing any nearby wolves that were similar in age to him. That would be cool, wouldn't it? Meet someone who wasn't his own family (if only he knew)? "You're not concerned about the thing you just pissed on?" He questions, brow quirking as his gaze flicks back to the ominous tower leaning up into the sky.

"Maelstrom"