“ shhh , i’ve got you… i’ve got you… ” ( YOU ALREADY KNOOOOOW )
The adrenaline rushed through his veins. Quite literally, the chemicals from the chambers in his back pumping the liquid adrenaline into his system. He had a hard time sitting down, pacing on all fours in the back of the dropship. His fur up in hackles, expressing alert and awareness.
Warwick didn’t intend to snarl at anyone that got near but he did anyways. There was something defensive about his stance. Clearly, he wasn’t ready to be touched, approached, or anything of that sort just yet. Usually, the muzzle was removed already but it stayed on because he refused to be touched. Sedatives wouldn’t help and only aggravate the beast who had to calm down on his own.
Everyone was acutely aware of the wolf’s territory in the back, marked by the various scratch marks on the dropship’s flooring and the massive bed enough for him to lay on. Warwick found his hairs falling when a voice reached out to him, followed by a strong scent of raw meat. Just freshly thawed. The blood was still dripping and he can smell it, apart from his own blood and the blood belonging to the other’s on the ship.
His ears perked up high, twitching every now and again with the coax of their words. Of course, the only person able to even get through to the wolf was them – Aria, an old comrade from Blackwatch that Warwick barely remembers but recognizes the scent of almost immediately when they are around. His tail slowed, dropping to a resting position as he moved over closer to them.
A large bowl with the meat was in their hands, being set down before him like a peace offering. He attempted to snap his jaws as an indicator of the muzzle still binding his jaw. It couldn’t be removed by him and was made to only be removed by a human. The lock at the back added to that level of complexity with it since he could easily rip it off otherwise.
At their gesture, his head lowered to the ground so that they could unlock it, pulling it off from his ears and then his head, successfully allowing him to move his jaw and eating again.
The muzzle was dropped with a loud clunk. No need to worry about damaging it ; it was made to withstand a beating.
Then there it was again. Those same words, the reassurance that further calmed him. This time, it was accompanied by brushes along the top of his snout, caressing down to under his chin with soft scratches there. Warwick kept a hunched position as he situated himself on the ground, snarling again but with pleasure.
Now he reached out to them, picking them up in one paw with ease. A lick over their cheek with a wet, slobbering tongue was given as a thanks.