Totoka River intention, retention, it's all in your head

he was being difficult?? him??
impossible.
he scoffed loudly, the water sloshing as he drew his legs through it. he had to move or otherwise the feeling would probably go in them. if it hadn’t already. the wolf part of him left him double-coated, sure, but even it was prone to being waterlogged in the best of scenarios.
he rolled his eyes at ol’ stutterbox.
“oh, sweetheart,” he crooned then, salting the wounds. “i didn’t ask for your help. where did i ask you explicitly for your help? you’re the one who walked up to me thinking i’m all incompetent, telling me how to hunt these fish. how long were you watching me before you decided that i needed your help, hm?”
there was vitriol lurking beneath his calm voice. his eyes narrowed, making him seem the fiend and coyote both more than ever. how dare—she had offended him, sure, but he could play that game too.
“nah, instead you just waltzed right up eyes all glitterin’ with amusement thinking this poor wretched little washed up mutt can’t fish. ‘oh, he must be cold and hungry!’ your pea brain probably went. ‘let me bark orders at him and insult him while he’s trying to get some food, because that’s what kindness is!’” he laughed, his voice cracking trying to hit the higher notes of her pretty lilt.
“please.”