Arrow Lake ludens

jigsaw finds himself met with a narrowed, molten stare. being that his markings are somewhat unusual, the male is accustomed to such raw specualtion, but he wonders if the lava gaze of this man is an assessment of potential malice. this, too, is understandable, given the umber wolf's injured state. although somewhat unsettled, jigsaw's friendly demeanor hardly wavers, his smile in fact slightly growing as the stranger without question grasps the dead fox and begins to rip into the meager meat of the thigh. 

no words are exchanged in return of jig's verbal offering as the other greedily tears into whatever he can garner from the dead animal; and so the wolfdog merely sits and waits, allowing his gaze to wander along and across the beauty of the lake. eventually he draws his eyes back to the ravenous raven-furred wolf and, as casually as he can he gives a more formal greeting.

My name is Jigsaw... he awkwardly trails off, allowing another moment for the stranger to eat. the pale man is only slightly annoyed that there likely will be nothing but bones remaining when the other is done with the fox, but after all it had been offered in it's entirety. the other is wounded (how severely, jigsaw has yet to determine), as well as hungry, and jigsaw on the other hand is accustomed to a lone nomadic lifestyle and knows he will be able to find another meal soon enough. in short, the sunset-eyed wolf needs this meager fox more than he does.

do... Do you feel any better? Um... Anything I can do?