Arrow Lake ludens

HE'S SO DEPRESSING lmao sorry jig <3

To perhaps the relief of the man, Redshank did not catch his look of disgust, not that he would have judged the other anyway. He was ashamed of himself, but was more-so angry at his body for wasting food that was so easily given away. Kind strangers such as Jigsaw were a rare thing to come across, especially ones that hadn't been taken advantage of by a pack yet. He was still a loner, still free, he could do as he pleased and was able to roam whenever and wherever. Winter, of course, would eventually force both their hands into joining one pack or another but, for now, they were both souls unburdened, for better or worse.

Worse, in Redshank's case.

He instinctively bristles as what remains of the fox is drawn away with a deft sweep of the other man's speckled paw, though he doesn't react beyond that. The mere sight had caused his stomach to spin and throat to clench. Instead, the Cairn simply watches Jigsaw delight in picking at the meagre scraps left — his clean, organised bites a stark contrast to his own scoffing down of the meal just moments earlier.

East. He tries to remember what lays east of these mountains but comes up empty. The man mentions travelling far, so wherever he had come from was surely a place Redshank had never come across before. And drier, apparently. A place similar to the Steppes, perhaps? Again, he wonders why. He seemed young — maybe a dispersal wolf? He had picked a hell of a time to travel, especially amongst the dangerous mountain ranges. A shudder of pain stops the questions swirling in his head, and Redshank sinks onto his stomach with an irritated grunt, the short-lived high of finally having food beginning to ebb.

"Redshank," he replies before hesitating for a beat. "From...nowhere."