Flycatcher Downs sweet little baby in a world full of pain

The male was silent, unwavering and just... STARING. Clay couldn't get a read on him, and with that came another surging wave of anxiety that crashed over him, dousing his body in cold. It froze him, keeping him still where he paws were planted on the ground; and when the male stood up Clay noticed the Nightwalker was way larger than he had previously thought. He towered over the Easthollian, and Clay fought his screaming nerves to take a step back.

"Are you sick? I can... uh, get you Water..."

Clay shook his head at the sudden question. What was that? Did he hear the guy correctly? He raised an ear and turned it towards the piebald. His brows high in the air and mouth pursed. "How dare you ask such a ridiculous question to me, Nightwalker." he hissed, the term sour on his tongue. Sick? If anyone was sick it was that murderous pack. "And even if I was, what makes you think I'd want help from your kind?"