Big Salmon Lake wake up, sleepyhead, it's happening without you

He grits his teeth, chewing away at the blood sodden fur between his toes. The distraction keeps him grounded, gives him somewhere else to look other than the wounded look upon Ghost's face.
The feeling settles in his chest, creeping forth to consume it gradually now that it's made a home there. It's like the nights he spends awake replaying windwalker's death in his head over and over. The stars used to be his only company then.
Through the panicked ramble, he ends up staring at Ghost again. He doesn't get why Ghost looks like he's struggling against a water's current, nor does he understand these false attempts to grapple onto him of all people.
Liar, he snaps. Bet you had a fun time. The whole place reeked.