Dawnlark Plains through gutters filled with black debris

He had not been moving too quickly or for very long before sensing something amiss. The beast paused and turned his attention to his surroundings, wondering if it was just his (limited) imagination getting to him, or if his sister had indeed found him. Then out of the empty expanse before him, an entity emerged. They were a blur at first - too far to make out - and the boar-man's head was turned in the opposite direction.

When his gaze traced back to the approaching stranger, his burly shoulders tensed, and the fur there spiked and prickled with uncertainty. Betelgeuse made no move to intercept the oncoming creature, and rather, he lowered his head and spaced his paws evenly beneath himself, just in case they were incoming to attack. His jaw was loose (more so than usual), as he showcased the crooked teeth that had earned him his second name.

In these desperate times wolves did stupid things. Approaching a beast such as himself for instance, was likely one of the worse things someone could do. It was not Gypsy that came upon him now but a boy. He was young but not small, sprightly yet clearly weathered by the sorrowful state of the world. With a low rumble easing from his chest, Betelgeuse took a few careful steps as if to come closer, but his body deviated around the boy's approaching figure. His gaze sparked with uncertainty and danger, adding to the message: stay back. It would be the only warning.