Ankyra Sound One wing will never fly

Don't sound too thrilled? Meh. Hugo scoffed inwardly at the first wolf's reply. He hadn't felt thrilled in ages, and with the memory and loss of Annabelle still swirling in Hugo's head, he was unsure if he'd ever feel so again. After so long, it became difficult to feel any profound feeling other than grief: and when Hugo wasn't grieving, he was numb. Something he said must have been off-putting the first wolf, seeing as she backed away, but the bereaved wolf didn't much care. What she thought of him was merely inconsequential.

The other, the red one, she played along. Her quip about assisted suicide brought a rare, thin smile to Hugo's face, but it quickly faltered. "I'll keep that in mind, Red. I could always use a favor." Even if that favor meant pushing him off a cliff.  

Perhaps there was a time when Hugo would have found her charming. He had once been a vain boy, but now her handsome compliment simply slid off his back. The way she had winked at him also caught his attention, however, Hugo did not return her playful gesture. He shifted his gaze back to the water breaking against the cliffside. Resting his head on his forepaws, Hugo spoke. "I lost someone special to me," he said.