Moonspear This Is Just a Dream

Charon's posture relaxed somewhat when she complimented his pack, his hackles falling flat and tail lowering to a more neutral, less threatening height. She then proceeded to stumble over her words in regards to the fishing matter, another thing he liked. He felt in control and it was good to have some wolves in the pack that respected him; he wasn't so sure about all of them by a long shot. Then again, he'd thought the same of Dhole.

"Good, fish tastes like shit compared to real meat anyway," he said gruffly when she admitted that she was better at hunting ground animals than fish anyway. He shrugged at her joke and dryly answered, "You look pretty healthy for someone who lives off rocks." But there was a glint in his eyes that showed that he was enjoying this little show-down in some way and that his words were not as dry and dark as they came.

Then she began to speak of his face, a subject he wasn't too keen on. He frowned grimly again and said, "We don't have a lot of medics. I've had worse, it will heal." The scars that littered his shoulder were a testimony of that — this was nothing comparatively. It just hurt, though not as much as the constant headaches.