wrong side of heaven

Njal doesn't like Mr.Captive very much. uvu

The dark wolf was preoccupied in some manner, which granted Njal some leeway when it came to stalking him. The man wondered briefly about what went through the captive's mind. Did he think about Bones? Did he think about the fallen comrades that the creek wolves had taken from him? Perhaps he felt guilt - but that thought, that specific idealization that this pirate mongrel could feel guilty after such an attack - was quickly dismissed. If he despaired at the thought of his fallen kin, Njal hoped the sensation ran deep. It was a malicious thought of his own, but the warden did not take losing Bones lightly; in fact, he hoped to make Cutthroat's life within the ranks as painful as he could.

As the silver man drew closer, the dubloon-eyed stranger finally noticed. They shared a brief look of shared animosity (or so Njal figured), and the Beta made himself remain calm in that moment. He wanted to grab the wolf by the collar and force him to grovel at his feet, for Njal's ego had been boosted heartily after his appointment of his new rank. He wanted to pull him in to the deep core of the river and force him to drink from it. Terrible things populated the grizzled man's imagination as he looked upon the shadow now, this taint to his riverside view.

The captive, perhaps sensing the loathsome opinion that Njal carried, remained stoic. He spoke only a single word which was nearly covered up by the bubbling current. Njal watched him for a moment longer, and then stepped closer - not stopping until he was aligned with the sigma next to the water's edge. "Can you fish?" he questioned, his eyes finally upon the river instead of the refuse that sat at his side.