hand me my shovel, i'm going in

The way the sun beamed down the stretch of land was unwelcomed by Mylo's tired eyes. God, it had been a while since he actually was forced to wake up in the morning. He tried pulling his paws over his face and wiggling around, away from the burning eyes of the sun. Where he lay, however, next to the clearing before the stream it was far too bright for him to avoid.
Mylo slapped his paws on the ground in frustration before him, annoyed to say the least.
"Ah fuck it." They muttered. He was hungry and sober anyway so, mind as well get up and look around for something to eat.
Eyes straining against the sun, he slowly stood. His muscles still ached from last night's extravaganza, so he made sure to stretch for an extra long while. It was when he turned to inspect his sleeping area did he notice the bundle of golden brown fur next to him. His eyes widened and he stared for a bit too long, trying to remember just who he was.
'No, I didn't sleep with him.... i don't think???'
Then it hit him, ah yes. The stranger from last night, the one who pursued him with gnashing teeth and biting words. Why was he here? Asleep, next to Mylo as he rested. From the way he spoke, that would be the last thing he expected the stranger to do. Perhaps he grew tired and decided to sleep as well, or something.

The tall man shrugged, not thinking much of it, and began to forage for something to eat. It was nuts, berries, and bugs again. Mylo was far too tired and far too clumsy to do any good hunting. At least at the moment. His nose was keen for them, at this point. Though much more so for the variety that brought about a drunken stupor.
It took him a while but he did return, with some berries, both fresh and fermented, and some truffles that he had dug up from the ground below. He did eat a bug or two on his way back so, he had least got some protein.

He sat near to the stranger once more, hoping to maybe catch him when they woke up. Munching along as he waited.
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In the end, he ended up asleep.

Sprawled out on his stomach with his chin resting on one of his forelimbs. His back legs splaying out to the side of him.

Quiet, and so rarely not-pissed-the-fuck-off for once.

It all changed when Spooky’s loud, stupid fucking clumsy ass woke him up with the sound of talking, footsteps, and—

Eating?

He opened his eyes.

Saw his ghostly white face, his barn owl orange eyes, his dumb, stupid fucking spikey fur, and yes, a mouth that was chewing away on fucking berries—

And closed his eyes again.

Pulling one of his front paws closer to him and shifting to rest his head more on his other leg. The one further away from Spooky.

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Mylo's eyes looked over at the movement before he turned his head to meet them. Studying the other for further movement before he piped up.
"Want some berries?" He questioned. Though, he figured not. This looked like a wolf that regularly was carnivorous. Mylo would eat meat, oh he most definitely would but, the process was far to inconvenient and tiring. Didn't help that before the foxes would often feed him during his stays. Made him lazier than he already was.

The spiderling returned to his munching, tasting and consuming the various things he had collected. For a moment he stared at the water, trickling and cool as the summer sun came higher into the sky. He thought of last night. Despite his growing thirst and the barely shrouded taste of vomit in his mouth, he opted to avoid it for now.
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“No.” He grunted at Spooky’s tepid, stupid fucking offer.

Seriously, he was a fucking wolf. Who the fuck ate berries, and seemingly only berries, for breakfast? No fucking wonder he looked so fucking pitiful.

And speaking of fucking pitiful—

He turned, finally, to look at him.

Glaring daggers from where he laid on the forest floor.

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Cheeks stuffed full of mushrooms, berries, and leaves, the wolf could feel a hole being burned into the back of his head. He turned, brown eyes matching with the other's red. Staring for a moment, mostly in surprise but, also into confusion.
"What?" His voice muffled from a mouth full.
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‘What?’

And just like that, it was the breaking of glass. The falling of a dam and the failure of a city’s floodgates. And it never really was meant to hold back the surge and storming eddies was it, anyway?

“Fuck you.” He snarled.

Snapped.

Rising to his feet, and bristling. Stiff, and indignant.

“You’re fucking fucked up.” He repeated. Stalking forward, closer. His tail lashing. His ears pinned back.

“What the fuck was that, last night?” He challenged. Coming to stand just before Spooky’s stupid, boney, lanky fucking ass, his chin tilted back, challenging, but not touching him. Never touching him.

The noises.

The sounds.

The pooling of blood, inside his ears.

It wasn’t like he could just fucking forget.

So how could he just fucking stand there, stuffing his ugly fucking face, like he didn’t, like he hadn’t—

Like last night never fucking happened.

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Mylo stared for a while, wide eyed and blank. Cheeks still stuffed as he listened.
Was it really all that important? It was just another late night bender to him, and he thought nothing of it. Why did this stranger even care? He didn't seem to like him much so, what did it matter?
His head was full of questions but, he swallowed hard on his large bite and smiled.
"Oh, ye know." He could barely keep from laughing, he knew his response was vague and answered no questions. From high up the other wolf appeared to him like an angry pup so, it made it hard for Mylo to take him (or anyone else, really) seriously.

The tall creature did decide to give the other a break, however, and indulged his questioning, if only but briefly.
"I wanted to see what drowning felt like." His smile did fade as he spoke, growing just slightly more serious but, mostly emotionless and strangely stoic. Mylo's behavior was out of place juxtapose the situation in discussion.
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And like everything else—

It was all just one big fucking joke to him.

“Whatever.” He scoffed. Shaking his head as he stepped away, backwards, to put more space between them. His ears pressed back.

It was just all more fucking inane bullshit, heap upon heap, and he was fucking done with it.

“You’re fucking insane.” He muttered over his shoulder, already making to retreat.

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"MayBE" Shoulder's raising into a shrug. He smiled a smile that was insane in every way it was fake. Truly he didn't know why he did that. Mylo wasn't depressed, no reason to feel like a burden, he didn't loath himself. There wasn't any particular reason why he masochistically went about hurting himself in various ways, without a thought in the world.
Childhood had been fine, chipper even. His siblings all came out normal and happy.

He could begin to feel the effects of whatever it was he ate, and he did stumble just slightly when he stood. Creeping over to the water, staring at it with an intense and mindless stare. His eyes an amber orange void as he crept up on it. Though he didn't do much, simply leaned his head down to lap at the surface. It was cool, brisk, and refreshing to his throat that burned and tasted horrific.

"You're pretty insane to stick around this long, though." Mylo mentioned as he rose his head and looked back at the stranger. A look on his face that said a thousand words but, mostly just 'i have a good point and i know you know'. He didn't care if it was an accurate one or not, it was just enough to be annoying and that was enough for him.
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From the corner of his eye—

Spooky made for the water, and he tensed. Stood, frozen in time, with locked limbs and raised hackles. His lip caught in mid-sneer.

Watching.

Waiting.

Seeing, if he would try to finish last night’s job, or maybe something equally as new and dangerous.

He didn’t.

And yet, he remained.

Rooted awkwardly to the spot. Unhappy and miserable. His ears flattened back against his head. His broad shoulders hunched and curling. Defensive.

Spooky looked back to him.

He looked away.

“No.” He said. Blunt. Monotone. Not an answer, but just sound, a response to Spooky’s own.

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"Eh, whatever ya say." He trotted along, the near poisonous substances in his belly made him feel lighter, chipper, and happier. So thus his stride almost appeared like a gentle dance, a swaying as he walked further from the stranger.

"Ya got a name, huh?" Mylo questioned, looking back over his shoulder once more, expecting barely if any response. Though it was worth the try, and a name worth remembering if the other decided to grant it. For one that cared so much as to spend the night, curled up close by. Almost as if to watch over him. Which was strange to the lanky wolf, to say the least.
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Further along Spooky toddled, away from the water’s edge, and he shifted.

Released from a spell he didn’t know he was under as he moved his weight from one paw to the next. His right ear twitching.

He was tired.

He wanted to sleep; he was pretty sure.

Instead, he sat.

Watching, vaguely, as Spooky continued to saunter about. Like a ghost. Like a fool.

“No.” He grunted at Spooky’s stupid fucking question. This time, staring. This time, making direct eye contact, blank-faced and challenging.

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"Huh." He purposefully took the stranger's answer seriously.
"Must suck." Mylo let out a chuckle shortly after, turning away from the other as if to pay him little to no mind. Though as he kept his back to the other his spine did tingle, remembering last night, before the water. Before the cool bathe he took. The break he took from breathing. He distinctly remembered the stranger attacking him, to which the deer-legged wolf did deliver a kick to the face in return.
He tried not to think too hard on it. For following those memories were a few he'd rather move on from. Not that they disturbed him but, that they were useless. No point in crying over spilled milk, as it were.

Mylo made his way up the stream a bit, mostly just bored and wandering. Other than getting high and drunk, there wasn't much going on for him. He did stop, turn back again and gave the stranger a glance. What a strange creature. There was a heart in there, cold dead and spoiled but, still a heart nonetheless. He wondered why the golden fleeced wolf gave Mylo any mind at all.

He gave him that 'Wanna come with?' stare, the one where he eased his chin outwards and his eyes a bit forward. Then he simply turned, and went along his way. If the stranger wished to follow he would. If not, no matter.
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Spooky left.

Further up the river’s edge, and then, eventually, out of sight entirely.

He slumped.

Down onto his stomach, his head resting against his legs. Eyes wavering shut, as he made sure he was well and truly alone.

Fuck late nights, was his last thought entirely, drifting, falling, into restless sleep.

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