---

By this point he had sunk like a stone into the larger man’s pelt, ears splayed flatly behind him as the gentle melodic tapping of hair on snow seemed to rock him further into sleep. Never once a wolf of company for longer than a night, he did not even expect himself to remain for much longer. He would enjoy what he could for as long as he could, before he went to ruin it all. As usual.

Settle... Hhnndown..? A yawn rolled from his lips smoothly and Rancor inched aside to more easily press his head onto Mojave’s shoulders. Hardly present, hardly awake, he muttered again. ..Umkay. Deep breath in, deep breath out, black and white melted into the colors of the earth. Wintery night fading into summery morn. The Whale-hunter was the sort of fellow to always find a reason to leave, swipe away a trail of prints in the snow, shake his head and deny his involvement. It was how he was. Who he was.

There was no reason for their reunion to last any longer than it needed to. Greet him, swim back home again. Yeah. He’d wake up and walk off, already fed up. Góða nótt. (Good night.)