Otter Creek A machete that cuts my cheek

Disregarding the the wolf before him existed until he was done drinking, Yuda did not care if it was a kind wolf or a vicious one. His blatantly blase nature may someday get him into trouble, but that amused the boy more than anything. Conflict was the only thing that even came close to happiness, and it was more of a cruel joy that was a simple spark that came and went as the seasons did — except infinitely more quickly. It would be obvious for someone to understand the way he moved within the world if they had grown with him or even experienced what he had; yet even the ones who had known him most would say that there was something darker than the black within Yuda's gaze.

The onyx muzzle faced the liquid that seemed to taste like the scent of the land it flowed through, yet the young male did not process these things. They were useless to think about and they only distracted the mind. After a few moments, his dark head rose in a speed that would have been half the time of most wolves doing the same. Yuda's black eyes focused on nothing, yet seemed to look upon the dark legs of the female before him. His black hole eyes moved to hers and he simply stared. Almost a robot with his actions, the male always waited for the other wolf to act first, no matter the intentions.