Cedar Sweep Black swan

Hesitation still lingered in his movements as he slowed to a halt, stopping a good ten feet from the she-wolf. He watched as she scrubbed at her paws, trying to rid them of as much mud as possible. His gaze flicked to her little collection, and he silently agreed, it was meager.

Her reaction to the frigid water pulled a smirk to the corner of his mouth. Deserved, he thought, shifting his focus to the rushing current instead. He’d had enough of looking at her for now, still stubbornly clinging to the pretense of indifference.

Hm. I’m a hunter, not a gatherer, he mused. I’m sure I’ve seen plenty of things, but whether I could identify them... He shrugged, unbothered. I suppose you’ll have to settle for disappointment. Not that that’s a new experience for you.

A low chuckle rumbled from his throat, amused at himself, and at the thought that the wretched creature across from him was, as expected, disappointing.