Whitefish River cupid's demanding back his arrow

hihi <3

Again, the cloud helmet that blinded the silver Epsilon from the real world almost caused him to crash against another wolf. This time however it wasn't a Plateu wolf. Surpised and a little confused, Finn retreated a couple of steps from the male, his lips curling into a warning snarl just in case the almost-trampled wolf would try to attack too.

He kept his lips drawn until the white fellow showed no signs of hostility. Good. Finn was in no mode to spar now, he was hungry -- so hungry that if the man had insisted to fight, Finn might've had to eat him.
Or not. While the other babbles some senseless question, Finn's olive eyes traced across his figure. He was a loner -- and a hungry one at that. Though he didn't look sickly (yet), the young Ollivander could tell that the male was struggling to get food on his plate.

Well that makes two of us, he thought somberly as he flicked an ear back non-chalantly. In a better day, Finn might've challenged the wolf to a fish-off, so they could both share a meal; but today was not a good day.

No. And there a thing called swimming he barked with an overly-sacastic voice. He didn't like being a douche -- or at least the inner him didn't-- but the younger male was just asking to be messed with.
[size=x-small]C'mon let a bro eat before interrogating him![/size]