The grass under Vaken’s paws made a soft crunch sound as he walked forward. He was in alright condition. His fur was on the cleaner side, his ribs were hidden with a thin layer of muscle and fat, his eyes glistened with mischievous contentment. He was doing well for himself lately. With that in mind, he was extremely hot in the sun. His body temperature continued to climb each second he wasn’t under the shelter of shade. It felt good to keep walking though. It felt good to stretch his legs and exert some energy.

His breathing was steady, but heavy. His tongue hung out his mouth as he panted, dripping pools of saliva on the hot ground. A few times the spit would hit his front paws instead, and the wolf would give a slight grimace of annoyance. He needed a swim. Sniffing through his nose, Vaken searched for a source of water. He could smell blood, coyote, wolf, pack, but not water. That annoyed him further, and he let out a grunt of dissatisfaction and continued his walk forward.

That was when he saw him: @Laurel. Through slightly squinted eyes, Vaken saw the scarred fur of the familiar wolf. Instinctively, he hesitated, taking a second to make sure it was really him. Was that the same fur he grabbed previously? The same muzzle he tried to bite? The same flank he had desperately tried to rip open? He froze in place, his paw dangling in the air, before shaking it off. He wasn’t going to avoid the male just because of their previous fight. Vaken would fight again if he had to. 


He scoffed, loud enough to announce his arrival, then he stepped into the sunlight once more to reveal himself. The smell of blood was heavy in the air, it hit Vaken in the face like a wall. “Killed him yourself?”

“That explains why you look like shit,” Vaken mumbled, gesturing with his chin to the scars on Laurel’s body. The other wolf was in bad condition. It was blatantly obvious to the male that the other wolf was struggling to survive. His skin was scarred with fresh wounds, his bones jutted out. Vaken didn’t feel any guilt for his honesty. He meant it in a friendly way, but the words were still sharp. “You can’t just go around killing coyotes.”

His eyes drifted along the other wolf’s spine and he took a seat beside him in the shade. Not comfortable enough to lay down, Vaken’s guard was slowly dropping. It felt good to take a break from his travels, but he wasn’t trusting. He pushed the dead coyote out of his way with a paw and turned to face his companion. “Maybe if you were pack you could,” he thought, his eyes clouding over at the idea. “But guys like you and me?” He gave a cold chuckle. “It’s gonna kill you,” he claimed. He starred at the dead body on the ground with dry exasperation. He shook his head, coming to terms with reality. “Maybe not right away. But you’re wasting the energy, you’re covering yourself in wounds.” 


He inched his way closer to the ground and gave a small shrug.

Vaken turned his head from the male. He had not been prepared for any of this. Not only was seeing Laurel a surprise, but hearing these words leave his mouth. Vaken was dumbfounded. His facial expression stayed relatively blank. Was this the same wolf he had tried to kill? It didn’t feel like it.

He tried to mentally scramble the pieces together. The injuries on Laurel’s flesh, the scent of coyote blood, the starvation. This wolf needed help, but Vaken wasn’t a saviour. He fell silent for a short period of time, letting his brain process what the wolf had come up with, then he snorted. “I’m a lone wolf for a reason,”he grunted.

The words came out sharper than he intended. The young male almost winced as he spoke, realizing that he was being unnecessarily harsh. As if to make up for it, he opened his mouth again, this time softer. “Listen, I can’t be your pack.” He turned his face back to Laurel and gave a guilty frown. It felt wrong on his tongue to say the words. “I mean- I could, but I won’t,” he corrected.

He left his brother for a reason. He didn’t know how to explain why, so he didn’t. He wasn’t strong enough to kill coyotes casually. Outrunning them was his only defence, and it was working for him. He couldn’t be obligated for the well-being of another wolf. He wasn't ready to think about anyone but himself.  
“I’ll stay with you for a night or two. We can help each other from the coyotes for a bit, but I am travelling south. I got some things I need to take care of.” 


If Vaken had the ability to scream, he would have. Not at the boy in particular, but into the wind, just to release some emotion. He felt like a bottle, overfilled with feelings and unspoken thoughts. He didn’t know how to get the words out, how to explain what he was feeling. He didn’t know how to comfort the boy, how to offer any help without being condescending or seeming disingenuous.

He stayed perfectly still, not even his fur blowing in the wind. He was a statue. He felt anger, then annoyance, then confusion, then acceptance. Finally, he let out a long, impatient sigh. “I don’t want to leave you to the coyotes,”
 he grumbled. “For their sake, and yours. I am not going anywhere right now-  just- don’t make it weird.” 


He itched behind his ear with a back-leg, looking off into the distance. His mouth felt dry and he felt uncomfortable. He hadn’t meant to upset Laurel. He didn’t necessarily feel guilty about it either. Instead, he felt like he was stuck in a blackhole. He wasn’t sure where he was going, or what the next right moves were going to be. If Laurel really wanted him gone, he’d leave, but it didn’t feel right. 


Snapping his head up, Vaken smelt coyote on the breeze. “They’re getting closer.”