Cassiopeia's View the master and margarita

If she was surprised by his appearance, she did not show it. Gristle hadn't the forethought to even announce his presence to her, too used to simply showing up whenever he pleased — or was needed. It wasn't like he could exactly sneak up on Wednesday, anyway...or any other wolf for that matter. His approach to most things was to use brute force and hoped the odds were in his favour. Siding with his notorious pack mate had been one such example. So far, it had turned out alright. She hadn't eaten him, for a start.

When his snort of indifference was met with only silence, Gristle cast back his gaze to the woman, noting her eyes following a trail that led down the ledge they stood upon. He didn't think of sending her tumbling cliffside and honestly wouldn't even try to if the thought did enter his mind. Wednesday was a valuable (if slightly morally chaotic) companion, and he knew the importance of safety in numbers.

As she stood back, Gristle moved forward, planning his move for only a second before he skidded down the rocky slope. He stumbled a few lengths but his sturdy legs easily caught his hefty body and he remained upright. He glanced back up at Wednesday with a quirk of his head. Coming?