Blackfeather Woods I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy

He'd been tired.

It was for that reason alone that the boy had given up his hunt—that reason for why Xan had not been brought a meal. His lip twitched, threatening to pull back and reveal his teeth, but he'd somehow managed to keep himself from doing so right away. "I don't care if you were tired," growled the albino, staring at the other with an unwavering glare. "I told you to hunt for me, so you should've stayed away until you'd succeeded in catching something." Did he not remember the rules of their arrangement? He'd been told to obey every command, not pick and choose whichever ones he'd felt like completing. It didn't work like that, nor would it ever. To make matters worse, the topic of special wolves had then been brought up.

"Do you want to be a special wolf, Seff?" he'd questioned, jaw locking into place as soon as the sentence had been completed. Gritting his teeth together, the urge to lash out at the boy had been fought against, shoved away until he'd been able to acquire back an ounce of his composure. "Come into the cave, then. If you want to be special so badly, then do it." This time, he'd not chasec him off. No, he'd invited the other male in, his own body having moved several steps deeper into Wolfskull as he'd spoken.