By no means was Askan weak, but dammit this red menace wasn't getting any lighter. Growling in frustration he kicked it up a notch and yanked her harder, uncaring of how much he was tearing up her leg. She'd be lame for a while anyway, so it wasn't as though he was doing all that much damage. For all the trouble she had caused she deserved to limp about, in fact it was the least she deserved. With the wanna-be-thief being such a lard-butt, Askan didn't exactly notice that he wasn't alone until it was too late.
Until Lorcan spoke up and broke the relative silence.
Vermin? Well that was putting it strongly, but then again he couldn't find it in himself to disagree. She was just that. Dropping her leg, Askan looked Lorcan's way and titled his head a little at the sardonic grin on his face. For one reason or another, Lorcan truly didn't like her, and despite the obvious antagonism between them at least they could agree on this. She was a little shit, a waste of space. The words that truly caught his attention came after though and the Selwyn blinked in surprised. She was a Whitestone wolf? She didn't really smell like it, nor did she look like one. She was skinny and the scent that clung to her was her own.
"She was one of yours?" He crinkled his nose at that.
What sort of fool would let her join their pack? Were they blind and stupid?
Still, not that the Rye wolf would want to admit, Lorcan's words were intriguing. And a little rest wouldn't hurt, she wasn't going to wake up any time soon.
"Help her again? Why the fuck would you in the first place? First time I met her she attacked me for no damn reason then got all pissy when I stopped her from ripping my throat out." He remembered with a scow. Of course she'd paint him as the bad guy, everyone always did.