there's a flaw in my design

The male seemed to relax – if only slightly, and while Scimitar was not always the most social creature about, he could see the shift of eyes, as if seeking a way out of this circumstance. With a slight dip of his head, he began to trail towards the water, leaving a respectful enough berth between the two. “Scimitar,” he finally rumbled in return, reaching the lake edge and bending his muzzle down to lap at the cool waters.

His posture might have eased, but his senses remained alerted tenfold – with his nape somewhat exposed to this strange wolf, and his attention seemingly turned away, he was not sure what to encounter.. and somehow, he was almost curious. Likely, the better route would be to excuse himself shortly after and continue scouting for local herds and the prime hunting ground for the Creek.

Yet something within him cringed with untrust for the male beside him, and he wanted to linger and figure out why.