Redhawk Caldera I'm trying to fight the feeling I will fall to the ground

The instant that Ashton put his paw on Capricorn's shoulder was the instant that his impression of the similarly aged male began to change. His upbringing told him that a paw on the shoulder was a sign of dominance, and by the golden boy's own admission, he was just as foreign here as Capricorn was. If only because the boy also seemed to have some pending contract with the inhabitants, he didn't outright react, though he did tense.

"Pleasure," he said, somewhat more gruffly than he might have before. All the references to his size would get old eventually, but at least Ashton hadn't yet suggested his size was a problem. The first wolf to do that would get a face full of Capricorn.

"So... delusional sickness," he trailed off, entirely unsure what that would look like. Wolves got sick sometimes, usually from parasites, and those that were too sick to recover often dwindled away and faced death alone. Packs left behind weaker wolves all the time. "You think she's strong enough to survive it?" he asked. It was, perhaps, a rather aloof thing to say, but it wasn't meant in poor taste.