Cassiopeia's View in my dreams, i am supreme

"I'm not—!" he started, finding the word "sulking" trapped in his throat as the stranger began to ascend the gap between them. His mouth closed haughtily, tail lashing in both irritation and uncertainty as the wolf plaintively offered up his charitable services for Nathaniel's need. He watched, wide-eyed and silent (read: dumbstruck) as he unwittingly allowed the man to recline beside him. He looked down at the prone brute, feeling his heart heaving, pumping rapidly as his imagination began to torture him.

This was wrong.

The way he felt was wrong. He shouldn't feel like this. "I don't have a problem," he insisted, tearing his eyes away, and tensely resuming his vigil over the horizon. "If anything, you're my problem."