Whitefish River Pale Underbelly

He was just a kid but man was he tall. The stockier male took a polite step back as the youth uncoiled himself and stepped from the underbrush. The loner could then get a better look at the shape Wicken was in, and it wasn't great. His eyes didn't linger on the scabs and protruding ribs though, but instead focused on the grey wolf in his entirety. "I'm Marcus, nice to meet you Wicken." He validated the kid with a nod of approval and a smile, then began to lead him to the river from where he came, looking back every so often both to show he was still listening and also to make sure the newcomer didn't pass out on him.

"Yeah, I can teach you. I've got your back kid." Brow furrowed as he looked forward once more, his own words tugging at his heart. The bank of the river became malleable as Marcus left solid earth covered with lush green grass to position himself directly next to the water. He hated the feeling of sediment between his claws. "Come up next to me and I'll show you what to do."