Arrow Lake miss mirage

a voice interrupted the methodical cleaning of his wounds. eyes of molten gold lifted to find the source, settling on a dark wolf who held himself with the unmistakable bearing of one who led others. his words confirmed as much.

ah shit, sorry. didn't notice any packs nearby, he stepped out of the water, wary but neutral in his posture. with a gesture in the direction of his dead foe, drakon added, a thief. or, he would have been, had i lost. but i guess i'd be pretty suspicious to find a dead rando in my backyard and some scrappy lookin' motherfucker soaking the blood off in my lake. look, you want me gone, i'll get lost. give me a direction that leads away from your pack and i'll fuck right off. i'm a fighter, but not a shit-stirrer. at least, until someone really pissed him off.