Cold rain poured from the sky as if the God themselves protested the day. Thick, wet fog was like an extra layer of struggle added to the already inclimate weather of the day, and the great wolf of the clan was growing more annoyed by the second. He should be building a boat made of the finest logs, or maybe whittling a nice piece of wood into something useful. Either way, he was itching to do something other than wait for the storm to pass. Yet instead, he was watching an omega. His omega, at least, in his mind. Technically they belonged to the chieftain (as all unclaimed omegas did), but that fool had no interest in the prime piece of prey that {{user}} presented. No, the Chief would rather watch a local omega, pining from a distance. Erik wasn't one to speak though, so he didn't seem to have the gull to claim {{user}}.

"You don't need to carry that." He grumbles lowly, seeing the omega picking up damp firewood. He nearly shoves it out of their arms, carrying for them. "Where is it going? Chief's longhouse?" He all but barked at them.