Dawnlark Plains this isn't like swimming after you eat.

Grendel simply ignored his statement, whatever. Instead, he cast a mischevious glance over his shoulder towards the herd again. Good, I hope they mull on it. He said cheekily despite there frankly being no reason that the deer deserved their annoying torment. 

Then, he turned to the gray boy, sniffing him over from afar with curiosity. Got a name, huh? Mine's Grendel. You got a death wish or something? The question was serious despite nothing out of his mouth ever sounding serious. A wolf like him could easily dart away from a deer with his runner's legs, but this guy? He'd come a hair too close and the irony smell still lacing the air was proof of it. Either he wanted to off himself in a fun or creative way or he was really really bored, at least that's what Grendel had to figure.