Big Salmon Lake hooked on a feelin'

Considering that he was trying to make a good impression on the caldera wolves, it irked him somewhat that this stranger was destroying any chance of that by being here, obnoxiously taking up space in the lake. Fish would flee for miles! That's how it worked, right? Okay, so Dingo had no idea if fish could smell, taste, or see anything above the water's surface; he was still going to blame this guy for any of his own failings. Then again, as the stranger spoke Dingo felt a bit more at-ease, and decided quickly that all of this could be remedied with one simple request.

Lake monster or not, you owe me some fish, dude! He glossed over pretty much everything the stranger said, hearing the comment about younglings and pfft-ing softly, disregarding it with a roll of his beady eyes. His ears twisted sideways upon his head at the next question, which took him by surprise. They thrust forward after a beat while Dingo's pea-brain processed it. Where'm I from? What -- why does that matter? And what's wrong with how I speak?

It wasn't like the Crestwoods were known for their locution. Heck, he couldn't make heads or tails out of what this pirate-guy was saying either way. With a scrunch to his nose and a slight tilt to his head, Dingo added: You alright buddy? Been uh, out in the sun too long or something? Maybe you should soak in there a while and cool down. Think the heat has melted whatever is between those ears'a yours. He didn't mean it in a bad way — Dingo was genuinely concerned. He really just didn't understand!