Emberwood i wanna be anywhere but here, always

If there was anything Evien had expected from the day - and his mind did tend to wander - it was not to be growled at and then have a fucking rotting carcass thrown direct center of his face. Green eyes squeezed closed sharply and his senses were overwhelmed with bad smell. Some kind of juice from the thing - rot and blood and nasty gross ew, fucking ew! - splattered across his fur, and Evien felt like his heart was about to jump out of his chest. Stomach churning and eyes widening, the brown wolf looked around for the culprit. 

When he saw them - a small silver thing, not too different from his own size - the disgust immediately switched over to indignant (and righteous) rage. 

"Oh my fucking god, do you have any idea how many germs could be fucking festering in that fucking thing?! Like, like rabies or mange or parasites or something!" the boy snapped, fur bristling as he walked forward. Not too close - it was a stranger after all - but stiff-legged and vehement. "You don't pick up goddamn rotting corpses off the ground, what the hell is wrong with you?! And you don't fucking throw them at people, it's on my face, oh my god..." Evien's voice rose in pitch, growing thicker toward the end as he choked on a gag. "I'm gonna throw up."