Qeya River theory of a deadman

Having made it out of a near death scenario with just torn up front paws and a swath of missing pelt from the top of his head all the way to his shoulders, he counted himself lucky and yet foolish at the same time.

Hunger gnawing at him, he had pounced the nearest living thing and caught himself a plucky pheasant. Eating half of the bird without even tasting the meat. He could no longer ignore the aching of his bloody paws and he stole his way toward the waters edge to soak them while he finished his prize. 
Without a pack his body was a precious resource he had to protect at all cost, as a lone wolf one injury could mean death.

As Rowen limped to the waters edge, he spared a glance toward the stranger and made a slight detour to give the strange wolf a wider berth before he dipped his paws into the water with a audible 'ahhh' Only then did he continue his meal.

Though he did not look toward the other wolf he was hyper aware of the strangers every movement ready to leap away and protect himself if he had too.