Redsand Canyon once upon a younger year

Donovan stopped walking when he got about three feet away from the other wolf. His smirk is unwavering, though the other cannot see it, surely he can hear the horrible tease in his voice. “Aww, aren’t you optimistic?” He says toxicity dancing in his voice, though it’s mocking and sing song tone border on rude.

He watches as the smaller begins to stand on wobbly legs. Making himself seem taller. Donovan hums out a rumbling laugh as he allows the other day whatever he has to say. 

“Yeah that’s my name, don’t wear it out, peaches.” His voice is at forst smooth and teasing yet becomes a bit sterner.

Deciding to close the distance between them Donovan gives a slight push of his massive head against Hide’s shoulder in an attempt to get him to fall. If he fall, Donovan will be heard chuckling under his breath. If not, he’ll swoop around to the other side of the smaller wolf.