Morg's words seem to be on reverb in the man's brain.
He stands for a moment, allowing himself to nod as he casts a glance toward Sven.
His eyes give off a trusting glance; the younger wolf would be watching the boar
as they chased off the intruding wolf. Without further ado, the dark woman is off,
sprinting hastily after the agouti pest. With a grunt, Pickerel turns on heel, chasing
off behind the leadess. His paws pound the cold earth as he tears along, his sunset-hued
eyes gluing themselves onto the hairy beast that rumbled after the target wolf.
A bit of concern washes over the russet man- what if this plan went to shit? It was
possible the boar would turn and begin attacking them instead of the wolf it was currently
on the tail of. Pickerel tries thinking out the many possibilities, but such began to over-
whelm him. Instead, he decides to think in the moment. His breathing grows heavy as
they near the wolf and beast; he was on edge. Pickerel knew Morganna wanted to sink
her teeth into the hide of the wolf before them. Pike brings himself along Morg's side to
shield her from the boar. He'd allow her to get her attacks in whilst he guarded her
from any possible attacks from the tusked creature.
His eyes strain as he peers toward his side to observe the stocky beast in greater detail.
The hair on it seemed bristly, its tusks like large overgrown teeth. His brows furrow
in disgust before he allows his dark lips to rise, baring his ebon toned fangs.