It would seem that Hawthorn was destined to forever be utterly incapable of being anything other than genuine. It was in his nature and he had never been able to see the use behind deceit and trickery. Certainly, it got some wolves along a little bit of the way, but eventually it would always catch up to them. The world did not treat liars kindly, for they could never be at ease as long as the truth threatened them. No, his earnestness might not always work directly to his benefit, but at least he could sleep at night.

He hadn't actually intended to use reverse psychology to draw her in and make her consider aiding him. It wasn't meant as a challenge, that he shouldn't bother asking because she likely wouldn't do it. In a way, however, he did put her on the spot. Most would want to do the stark opposite of what they were expected to do, especially one such as an Angel who considered herself above the man who clearly thought he had no business asking her for help, because who were they to expect anything of them? And who was he to assume anything about her?

Perhaps she would find a small degree of satisfaction in surprising him when, though she didn't exactly offer her help, she did ask what would have to be done. His lips remained curled just gently into that smile and his face remained placid and warm, but his great head did tilt a degree to the side and his white brows raised like a lofty, foamy tide over the ocean blue of his eyes. The considerable fluff of his tail waved hesitantly behind him, though it was far from being an exuberant gesture.

"Well, ah... I would just need someone to... lift this slab of rock off my ankle... I'm pinched between it and another and, ah... can't reach it on my own..." Those deep blue eyes of his flickered back to his painfully trapped limb that forced to remain mostly still in the moving water, his peachcream belly dripping where the river brushed his underside. One of his velvety ears flicked back - an uncertain and hesitant gesture - before he regarded her again. "But, really... it's a little, ah... heavy. And very wet... obviously, what with the water and all... I wouldn't want you to... mm... exert yourself on a strange old Gypsy's behalf."

Strange old Gypsy, really. The Medicine Man certainly had an odd way of viewing himself, as he was not really all that old and was actually rather handsome in a way that he used to be tender and boyish and was only now slightly weathered. Perhaps the only thing strange about him was the fact that he was very evenhanded and mildmannered in comparison to most of the other wolves of New Moladion.