With all the somberness that had filled his mind lately, the waking worries and thoughts and feelings overtaking him, it had been a while since Wayne could relax and have a good laugh. He was not trying to be unkind to the wolf flailing around with sap stuck to his muzzle and paws, but the scenario was so ridiculous that anyone who didn’t get a chuckle out of it had a poor sense of humor indeed. His quiet laughter morphed into a small grin until the hawk informed him that the sap-covered wolf was stupid. Even if she had been capable of more than just broken high speech, he was sure the message would have been blunt all the same.
The cowboy caught a glimpse of pale blue eyes flickering pathetically up at him as the wolf accepted his offer for help. It made the man smile again, though this one was slightly more kind, and he came over and began to kneel to the other’s level to better reach the sticky face.
It was then that the red-tailed hawk interrupted, flying up close to him with a warning before perching nonchalantly on the dark wolf’s head. Blinking in confusion, not sure how to deal with a bird that wasn’t a chicken, he could only turn his gaze over to the wolf’s scrambled one. It was clear now that his eyes were off, one fixed neatly on him while the other pointed off in a different direction, and the effect was a little disorienting.
“A funny face don’t always mean a funny head,” the Labrador mongrel returned in a muttered tone. It might not have been the best thing to say, but the wolf seemed lucid even if he didn’t look the part. He looked back at the somber golden stare of the hawk and smirked faintly as the pair introduced themselves—the luperci Leichi and the bird Timmy. He arched a brow at her moniker but didn’t make any comments on it.
“I’m Wayne McCoy,” the dusty-colored dog said. His smile came slightly more slowly than before as his usual social awkwardness crept up on him, but he was luckily distracted by the work that needed to be done. “I can cut what’s dried if you c’n hold still, and I’m sure some lickin’ can get the sap off.” He drew one of his knives and added with some humor, “But I ain’t doin’ the last part for ya.” He wedged the blade very carefully between the dark wolf’s forepaws, managing to push through the stickiness so the male could at least get them apart. He then grimaced as he glanced at the sap oozing along his blade, bringing it to his mouth and testing his tongue on it.
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