Wapun Meadow it isn't about the stuff

It seemed as if he had hit a sensitive subject. Charles' body language instantly grew a little meeker and more submissive as she started talking about why she didn't like Legion; he didn't feel actively nervous on the surface, but his subconscious was brought back to the many times he'd asked undesireable questions to Mother. How he would get away from it depended a lot on her mood at the time and the timing of his questions. Brouhaha said that her mother lead the pack -- that must've been the scary wolf he had met at the borders -- and that she had expectations of him. He could sorta relate to that, because Mother had expectations too, except he had no idea what they were. I get that, was all he answered, and Brouhaha continued to bring them towards water. Charles didn't really understand that he had touched on a touchy subject she didn't want to elaborate on, not consciously anyway, and that her being in a hurry was her way of coping with his questions.

The insult was met with a twitch of his tail, a subtle sign that it might be a sensitive subject, but no more as he jumped up on the boulder and looked in the direction she told him to look in. She didn't sound like she knew what she was doing -- or rather, as if she hadn't known what she was doing before -- when she said that water was over there.

At her prompting nips, Charles came into motion again and started going towards the water. He didn't want to stink forever, after all. He nodded and started hurrying towards the water, eager to get the stink of shame off him. Charles was happy when he got to the water and put a paw in it first. It was rather cold, honestly, and he wasn't much looking forward to getting in there, but after a second or two of pondering he tiptoed in and sat down so he could get his stinky flank into the water anyway.