Wheeling Gull Isle run the voodoo down

Dingo was investigating the carcass, trying to determine if it was worth stealing a bone off of it, but as he rounded the thing he noticed a canine shape; this spooked him, he hadn't heard the wolf coming, and he stopped in his tracks. But the stranger didn't seem bothered. He wasn't interested in the bones either, which Dingo presumed to mean he could do whatever he wanted. So he sought out a smaller rib bone (which was still garganguan since the body was that of a beached seal or something), and began to work at it. His teeth dug grooves in to the shaft of the bone, and soon he'd slobbered all over the connection point to the exposed sternum. He didn't hear the stranger's low sound of greeting.

But when Dingo finally paused to take a breather (standing awkwardly on his hind legs while positioning himself with his forelegs, feeling warm from his face to his shoulders after all the activity), he saw the wolf again. They were watching him, and he didn't like it. Oi, you mind? Help me get a bone or don't, but quit starin'! Truthfully, he didn't mind the stranger's eyes on him; but he felt a little uh, exposed.