Lost Creek Hollow Looking back at sunsets on the East side

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"Fucking kill me." In a groan, his muzzle formed wrinkles and folds as his eyes traced the corners of the den. His new least favorite part of the day was his bandages being taken off, and by no means did they no need to come off, he was certain he'd rather be stomped on the head by a posse of rampant bison. His entire body was beyond the form of ache, and straight onto the akin of being sliced by Grim's scythe a thousand times. Now he was sure he needed on something stronger, or he just needed to die so his bones weren't berating him for having not dropped dead in the woods.

It was then his eyes lazily followed the icy gaze of Kel's, only for him to quickly realize not only the direction the other man was headed, but what he was going to do. Not the god damn bandages again. Hope rolled away from his eyes as his mouth hung slack, only for his eyes to decide he'd handle it better if he wasn't looking. "FUck." Going stiff as a board, he attempted not to offer any form of fight, for the time being, but damn if his body didn't want to for him.