Qeya River I met this dude at Coachella

Gluskap had been more pleased with the catch that still wiggled in between his jaws than he was attentive to the fact that the fiery-furred female was struggling. It was not until he managed to close some of their distance that he noted the quick gasps of her breath and the shaky movements that her limbs provided her. His fangs were clasped tightly to the trout, but his eyes were trained on the amber-eyed girl. She was miserable, and the more he seemed to scrutinize her, the more Glu realized that the famine was a wicked and terrible plague. It had sucked the very life and soul from this creature, and even he could feel the pressure of his skeleton against his skin as it confirmed the very same for him.
 
It was remarkable.
 
Lowering the fish to the earth in front of the she-wolf, Gluskap nudged it forward with a tentative glance in her direction. The female did not look like she was altogether there. In a morbid attempt to understand what was happening, the coywolf male inched closer to her. His sharp canary gaze bore holes into her frame as he analyzed the very core of her being, interested in a way that would have been deemed ill. The fascination of it all was enough to cause his heart to beat in his chest. But he was a designated medic for those wolves.
 
“Eat,” he purred softly, still holding that coy smirk on his leathery lips. His skeletal frame danced around her carefully as he investigated her body. Her eyes were glossed over and distant; she looked at him as though she were staring into the horizon. If she were to collapse, he would be sure to get a better examination in.