Falls of the Hinterlands Your whole life you had an attitude

seriously? she was going to be critical of what he ate? with a stern glare, baron pulled at the fish's tail before chomping it down and gulping. to make his point further, he licked at his chops sloppily, tilting his head like a smart ass. 

"it's free chum, and i'm hungry," he said. "turned down some food earlier. if it ruins my morning tomorrow, you can be proud of yourself for being oh-so concerned." he should have taken that meal when he had the chance. still, he didn't dwell on it. picking at the bones despite the foul scent that offended his nostrils, he gnawed before glancing up at the woman. 

"no," he replied curtly, ears flattened. though he'd been born along a river, he and his brethren were never trained in the art of catching fish. pops told him those skills were for midgets who could fill up on a fish filet. so he never learned. baron specialized in the hunt of beasts; elk, deer, moose. still, he remained opportunistic as any wolf and was never too proud to scavenge and take easier prey as well. he was, however, too proud to ask for help.