When talking about mental demons, Fritjof has more than enough of those. They have whispered anger and hate into his brain, only to use him to cruel ends. Not that he is kind, or loving, or forgiving. But he is generally fair. Yet even the mind of a sane wolf can be tricked by the lies of others and leave scars that run deep though they may no show on the surface. Despite these he is trying to move on. His mind is not nostalgic, not resentful, just resigned, and still loyal. But loyal to what? To who? He has few answers to these, though he has met a few acquaintances who could become friends, given time and correct circumstances. Yet who would want to be friends with him? His paranoia tended to keep him alert to danger, yet he was small compared to these two females, and possibly compared to every wolf he had met so far.
He sees the white and grey female eyeing the slim pickings left over from the meal Tick Tock had given him and feels sorry for her. She is cowering in a way he has never been forced into. He nudges them towards her, sure that she could use it more, sorry he had already eaten so much of it. It surprises him, he usually only cares for those who have helped him, or he owes allegience to. Perhaps it is a residual feeling left from Tick Tock helping him. A guilt to be assuaged. Not kindness, though possibly empathy.
Fritjof had not heard much of the plains yet. Just that they were... unstable. Perhaps this female was why, though he had little doubt she could hold onto them. Her stance was confident, as was her step. And her ability as a hunter proven. He was not sure how well her benign deeds fit into her role, considering feeding those outside one's pack was usually counterproductive. "Congratulations on your success" he said quietly, not really sure he should speak up, but felt awkward staying silent. He had not meant to intrude on a moment between new Alpha and follower (or was she?), and yet, he stayed rooted to the spot, for he had been curious about the alpha as they first met. "Please, take what is left of the meal" he says, turning to the other. "I'm sure she would have given it to you had she not run across me instead. And it certainly is not mine to guard." He hadn't killed it, and therefore felt he had no right to keep it should another need it more.
He still did not know these two, or what they spoke of, the wolves or territories. He knew only what he had heard, previously talking to others. It gave him a distinct feeling of disadvantage, but held his ground among them. One never learned, if one never listened or met anyone new. |