Wicken had traversed through the new lands until he happened upon the shining river he now resided upon. It had been several days since he first walked the banks and soaked in the cool water to soothe the aching wounds on him. They had healed to the point they no longer burned with his sweat, but they still caused a considerable amount of pain with any movement. Eventually, he decided his strategy would be to starve and drink water like a fish to try and ease the hunger that was slowly consuming him. His thin figure was already considerably more emaciated than when his journey had started.

Wicken now laid beneath some foliage he had cleared and watched the shore line with groggy yellow eyes. He had spent much of his time near the water asleep, and he was not surprised that a wolf had managed to appear while he rested unawares. The talent of the stranger showed through with the wolf he seemed to have caught being consumed. He found himself more aware as he observed him. How had he caught one? He pondered as he looked to the water once again. Any attempts to catch fish had been fruitless thus far in his short life, but he doubted it would be easy. 

Wicken refused to address the other soul on the river bank. A stranger was always a fearful foe in the eyes of a broken wolf, and Wicken was by far the broken one.

Wicken felt a small pit in his stomach build up beside the ball of hunger that already resided there. It became a lead ball rooting him beneath the foliage with a conviction that even a mountain could not move in that moment lest he himself move from underneath the bush. Ever since he had received his wounds, the gaze of another was enough to send him into a fearful spiral, and this occasion was no different. 

His dark ears pinned tightly to his head, and he cast his yellow gaze to the dirt just as soon as it met the strangers own yellow eyes. He moved them away quickly enough that he missed the strangers stature, and he found himself unsure of their intentions. Wicken had not expected to be addressed, but it encouraged him to curl in on himself in a tight ring. His muscles ached with the small effort it took to maintain, but he kept up the tensed position in the event he needed to flee. Although life was hard, he was not yet ready to die. An optimistic pessimist until the very end.

He also found the position uncomfortable with his ribs jabbing into his hind haunches. Had he really lost that much weight? No... His tone was polite and curt, but it easily gave away his youthful age. Although there was much to be desired, Wicken left it at that. He had only been on the river for a handful of days to regain his strength before he would set off again. He willed that perhaps this stranger would leave him to his devices to do just that, but he knew it was a fools game to assume a wolf could read his mind.

Although his eyes remained cast aside, he found himself unfurling the tight ring he had created at the prospect of a meal. Wicken wanted to trust the stranger, but it was difficult given his circumstances. His already diminished pride would be taking another blow today, and it would surprise him if it ever was to recover with all of the abuse it had faced. He had very minimal knowledge in the realms of hunting, and the bulk of his food intake was scavenging or getting lucky to happen upon a sickly creature he could overpower. A fish sounded... good.

I'm named Wicken. What is your name? He tried his best to not sound nervous, but there was a wavering in his polite tone that gave him away. He rose to a standing position to reveal a lanky figure with too long legs. Patchy scabs littered his back left leg that gave slightly as he moved closer to the stranger. His tail waved behind him. If you could teach me how you catch them, I would be forever grateful.

Wicken hesitantly trailed behind the lighter colored male. He nodded his head in acknowledgment as he learned the strangers name. A strong name for a strong wolf, even if he was smaller than Wicken's height. He appeared to be much healthier with knowledge only age could bring, and the kindness that Marcus exuded did not go unnoticed by the lanky wolf. 

 

His tail waved behind him lightly while they walked. An indication of his excitement at the opportunity to learn how to catch a new prey item. He had been limited thus far and fresh food was exciting.

He watched as the russet male settled by the edge of the water. His paws carried him to the edge of the water with a space between them to leave a respectful amount of room, but he turned to watch what he was doing all the same. Wicken's yellow eyes avoided his while he watched the water and waited. Thank you... for being willing, I mean. I appreciate it. He spoke to him in a whisper before they began, nervous to scare the fish away with the volume of his voice.