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guess i'm doing fine,
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i'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me?
He shrugged, watching the man toss the bottle back and forth. The mention of his arm instantly made him uncomfortable; the coyote shrugged again, looking away. 'I guess,' he muttered. The arm was still a touchy subject concerning the loss of his dignity, but how could he expect everyone to ignore it? The dog mentioned he was a medic then. That could be helpful. 'Really? I tried to set it myself, but all I had to tell me how was a book..' Gig looked back to the dog, squirming slightly under the inspecting gaze. 'I'm afraid it might need to be rebroken,' he admitted.
The dog's way of speaking was starting to irritate him, but he shoved it aside. Especially if he could get the other to help him set the arm properly. Pissing him off would probably not be the way to do it. 'Not especially,' the coyote replied honestly. The arm was sore, sure, and on occasion jolts of pain would erupt down from the shoulder to his palm, but for the most part it didn't bother him. He tilted his head to the introduction. Samer, then. 'Pleasure. My name is Giggle.' Indigo eyes shifted away from the blue of the dog's. Giggle did not like the intimacy of eye contact.
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