this is not enough, this is not enough

The tall wolf made his was along, gathering berries, herbs, and other various things in his maw. He was trying to create a stash, intending on shoving it all into the base of an old tree. The same one he was starting to like sleeping in. Perhaps his vague scent would keep small forest life away from it.
Only gathering a little bit at a time wasn't enough for him and frankly, he was starving. So starving in fact that when he discovered the rotting, maggot filled corpse of a rabbit not but a few hours before, he took to eating it. Seeing it as a opportunity he couldn't pass up. No, he was far too lazy, lanky, and lacking skill to be able to actually catch his own food. Though, perhaps if he actually cared enough to put his mind to it, he might be able to achieve something.

He wandered back, mouth full and slightly salivating. Having to resist eating it all was tough but, he needed to grow some sort of a storage. It was going to get him absolutely nowhere if he ate it all at once. Nowhere except maybe drunk and high.
This wasn't the most ideal diet but, it was a diet he had been surviving off of for a month now. Carrion and plant-life, the only things he could get a hold of. To be fair, he was extremely wary of the wolf pack he was growing more and more aware of. He didn't know if they would right-out kill him if they found him catching prey on their territory. Mylo thought himself lucky to not have run into any of them yet, and he feared running into a large group of them.

Though he thought about the stranger from earlier for just a moment. How strange they were. They certainly weren't part of any pack, at least he didn't think. Why else would he stay the night with Mylo and not the rest of his family? Even then, why would he stay the night with him at all?
He couldn't make sense of it, at least not easily. So thus, he tried to stop giving it too much thought. Mylo was smart, perhaps too smart for his own good but, he was also ungodly lazy. Not putting too much effort into anything. Besides, what exactly was the point?

No, no point at all.

He went about his business, digging up a bit of the earth around the old tree and replacing it with his findings, only to brush foliage and dirt back over it to shroud it's scent.
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Spooky was gone, and in his absence, the monotony had returned.

Eat.

Sleep.

Walk.

Repeat.

His feet moved without aim. The paths he took lacking a purpose. And it was in this way that he happened again upon him.

Speak of the devil.

“Spooky.” He said, standing there, sullen and still, his shoulders slouched and sloping.

His voice flat.

His eyes watching.


For some reason, the flat remark of you’re alive didn’t seem so fitting.


The scent of rot permeated the air. Food that had gone wasted, and instead now festered, open and spilling. And with it, the smell of something sweet, sickening and cloying, and heavy in the air.

He rankled.

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 The turned their head quickly, white paws covered in dirt and amber eyes wide open. A slight "huh" coming from him as he did.
 It took him a moment to see him and recognize that fur color, those red eyes that, surprisingly, did not strike him as particularly angry or grumpy. Mylo was honestly perplexed, for the most he had seen of the wolf was anger.
 "Grumpy!" He returned the gesture of name calling, a genuine smile on his maw. To be honest he enjoyed the company, no matter if it had a cross look on its face constantly. Months of being alone made him weird, and he missed those foxes. They probably weren't good for him, anyway. Their partying and dancing and drinking. Though the tall wolf never seemed to care, even flat out ignored it, maybe even sometimes sought it out on purpose for that exact reason.
 "You need something?" He questioned, turning back to his stash, finishing up the mound he was creating and covering it over. The wolf was starting to think the grumpy one was seeking him out. First, he ran into him, chased him to the river, and now he was here. What was his obsession? Mylo didn't think he was that hot or crazy attractive. This one was weird.
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‘Grumpy!’

He grunted.

His ears rolling back against his head and splaying out the sides. His expression, somehow, somewhere between having just eaten a lemon and emotionally dead.

The nickname was familiar, and oh so well used.

And yet, not his fucking own.

He continued to stand and stare. Boyish and awkward, as he watched Spooky continue to putter about.

‘You need something?’

He made another face.

“No.”

Why the fuck would he need anything from Spooky? He didn’t even fucking want anything.

Whatever.

Coming, eventually, to stand just behind him. Short, only when compared to Spooky’s freakish, driftwood-looking ass.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

Demanded.

Looming, and leering.

Judgemental.

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 He gave a wide-eyed side gaze at grumpy as he shuffled around. Why was he so interested? Mylo gave an unsure expression when he asked about what exactly he was doing, so Mylo lifted his head in thought before looking back down at him. Eyes briefly rolling in his head.
 "Minding my own business, I think." He let out a snort before laughing, finding himself to be quite funny. Going about whatever it was before he spoke again.
 "Stockpiling berries and stuff so I have something to eat later." Mylo admitted, finishing up his burying with a quaint pat on top of the mound with his paw. He then turn around, walked a bit away, just enough to get some room from the little mouth-breather, before sitting down. Achieved with a days lazy work.
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“Why not hunt?” He asked, blunt.

Watching, as he strut about then sat.

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 Mylo did think to himself for a moment, evident in how he lifted his head a bit and stared into empty space.
 "Too lazy." He smiled, but it soon drifted as he gave brief pause to his talking. "Too weak."
 Mylo's head hung low, exhaustion and just lack of energy weighing him down. Like his head was too heavy to hold up on his neck. His diet probably contributed heavily to his appearance; he couldn't even remember being this skinny before. The foxes would bring him things out of kindness and good faith, he would bring more berries and herbs, they all had a good time. Though without that trade option he was without it, and even though his father had taught him to hunt when he was young, the drive and motivation had sense left him. All that remained was a sad wolf, with a meager body, that couldn't barely do shit but dig for truffles.
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“You’re a fucking idiot.” He snapped at Spooky’s sad, clown-at-a-pity-party ass.

Too lazy.

Too weak.

Fucking bullshit.

“Get up.” He grouched. Walking forward. Baring his teeth as he passed. Jaws snapping shut on nothing but empty air.

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lil poop post for a lil poop man

---

 Mylo shrugged grumpy's comment off. Idiot or not, he was the way he was. In a way, Mylo was content with that. Perhaps his lack of body weight made it easier for him to get drunk which, with his current plans, was welcomed.
 The approaching gnashing teeth made the lanky man flinch, and back up. Remembering the nights before when he was attacked by this stranger.
 "Wha-No- W- Why???" Mylo questioned the grumpy little shit as he bullied him to his feet.
 "What do you want?" He barked, mostly confused.
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The fucking idiot panicked—

And he growled, low, in the back of his throat. Black lips curling, peeling. His teeth on display.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

He didn’t even fucking touch him.

Right?

Whatever.

He shook his head. Licked his lips. Grumpy.

They didn’t have all fucking day.

“Shut up.” He said, without any real heat. Shifting his weight from foot to foot. “Are you coming or not.”

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 His pinned back ears rose gently and cautiously when the other just scoffed and turned away. Such a strange creature, doesn't it hurt their throat to growl all the time like that? He watched as grumpy made subtle movements and gestures forward before speaking. Coming or not?
 "Well, that depends, where are we going?" Mylo asked, curiosity causing the tall creature to pick up his body and follow after the stranger. He was a little bit afraid of him, mostly because Mylo didn't really like it when people touched him without permission. Then again, Mylo has given a lot of people permission. Though it remained, being suddenly pounced on wasn't the best feeling in the world. Even if the stranger didn't leave much of a visible mark.
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‘Where are we going?’

“Away.” He grunted, rolling his eyes, leading the charge further into the woods.

Jesus.

Did he have to fucking explain everything?

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