ten feet under and upside down

Charon ignored her yelp and her excuses. He didn't care if the rain had washed away any scents; then maybe she just shouldn't have stepped near his lands at all. It was her fault, and he wouldn't fall for her trying to make it part of his problem. The Bay had enough problems as it were.

She then said that she could fight and hunt, to which Charon let out a laugh. She looked terrible, like she wouldn't be up to much anytime soon. Maybe with time she could dry up well and make herself useful; maybe. But that wasn't any guarantee she'd be a good pack wolf. It wouldn't give him any guarantees that she would do well.

Charon lifted his tail, opting for dominance even though there was little more submission the stranger could give than she already did. She said she needed help. That she'd die out there. Charon didn't care. Wasn't his problem a wolf couldn't take care of herself.

Then he got a brilliant idea.

"Alright, I'll save you," he casually said, holding his brows in a frown. "But there's a condition. You gotta do everything I say. You'll be my slave, my thrall. You can go wherever you want to and do whatever you want to, and you'll even have a rank in the pack, so it's not like you won't have any freedom. But you're not allowed to desert the pack, and if I call for you, you gotta be there and do as I say, and you can't ever speak ill of me to anyone. Do you understand that?" Charon wasn't a charitable wolf, and, despite his youth, he looked like he meant it. "If you agree to my terms, I'll get you somewhere dry with food right now. I'll take care of you in exchange for your sworn loyalty." His own fur was beginning to soak through, he realised as he spoke, his guard hairs fighting against the string of rain washing down on them, but they would not hold much longer. He hoped she'd say yes without arguing about terms such as an amount of time she needed to serve or certain demands she made, so they could finish this chapter -- and start a new one -- and get somewhere dry.