“Do you need assistance?” The woman pointedly asked, and Njal turned a dull eye upon her sincerity, finding it suspicious. He expected something more. Laughter, perhaps, or the prodding of more volatile comments at his expense. Yet there was nothing - there was a genuine moment of care passing between them, which caught him more off-guard than his stumbling paws. "No," He gruffly crooned, while his stocky limbs tried to balance his heavy body along the ledge. He took a few defiant steps as if to prove a point, and once again began to slide; the shale of the mountain drifting out from under him, and clicking like laughter against their shapely neighbours.
Njal grunted with frustration and lowered himself, deciding to just have a nap or something. Keeping low would make him safer. He wouldn't fall, or so he believed. He watched his own paws as he carefully set down, like a robin carefully covering it's precious eggs; and then when he was rooted to the spot, he looked upon the woman with a smug expression. See, I'm fine, his look boasted. He refused her help, the same way she had refused his offer to teach her proper fighting techniques - they were both pig-headed, apparently.