Itching a spot behind his ear with his leg, Vaken wondered if he had fleas. He wasn’t exceptionally itchy, but there was a noticeable difference. Was it dry skin? The yearling growled at himself in annoyance. It better not be. He was still healing from the fight up north, dry skin was an unwanted pest on top of a bundle of other issues. He finally gave up, dropped his foot to the floor, and relaxed the muscles in his face.
He was feeling more tense than usual. He wasn’t sure what the cause of it was. It could have been the coyotes, the stress of interacting with so many lone wolves lately, hunger, heat. He plucked himself off the ground and towards the den by the tree, sniffing along the floor for possible threats. He wasn’t going to barge around the house of someone else.
When he felt it was safe, he coziest up outside it, desperate to find some shade under the hot sun.