Vaken wasn't a clean wolf. Not that there was any mistaking it, from the dirt dried onto his forehead, to his tick infested mane. It didn't take a second look to realize the coyote-wolf was in desperate need of a bath. He barely groomed himself. He had fleas. Not a ton of them- but enough to be driving him mad. How they survived in the winter was beyond him, but they were there. A bunch of the nasty creepy crawlers making themselves right at home. He flashed a sharp toothy-grin, reached around his shoulder and grabbed a lump of fur.

His winter coat was shedding. He spat out a mouthful (bugs included) and snarled angrily. He didn't have to get rid of them completely, but he certainly wasn't going to make their vacation any easier. This was his body. He didn't want to share with a bunch of parasites.

The scrawny tangled mutt spotted the white fur of Nymphnora quickly, his eyes narrowing. It was clear she was young, only a few months younger than himself. Not much of a threat. He looked away momentarily, yanked out another chunk of his winter fur and spat it onto the cold hard ground. He was ready to shed all of it off, to have a new short pelt for the summer.

The boy returned his gaze to the while wolf in the distance, sceptically deciding his options. He wasn't much in the mood for company, but he didn't feel like leaving his spot. "Aye," he called, lifting his head up to draw her attention. "Why are you walking so weird?"

If Vaken hadn't realized she wasn't a threat earlier, an injured leg would've done it. He scoffed, eyeing her injury with dismissive disgust. Why was she walking around then? It seemed unnecessarily dangerous. Spring was coming, but there still existed a thin layer of snow. It must have been difficult for her to travel long distances, or move quickly. "Vaken."

He didn't try and pronounce her name. "Shouldn't be walking around by yourself," he added, his tone oddly dark. "You're an easy target." He hadn't meant it as a threat, but his voice was dry and uncaring. It was just an observation and some words of advice.

Hrmph. Vaken watched the white wolf ignore him, walk towards the water and hunt. He wasn't sure why it made him so angry. He wasn't used to being ignored. He kept his eyes trained on her for a few minutes, watching the swiftness of her attack. She had caught a fish so quickly. "Fine," he barked. He shook his head in disbelief, then returned to grooming his fur.

He spat out a burr, then moved his eyes back to her. Was she going to share? Probably not. He grunted, then lowered his head and moved towards her slowly. "Give me some of that," he demanded.