‘ can i go with you? ’ (hope this is okay!)
He spares the wolf a scathing glance before giving voice to a resigned grunt. He then turns his great striped head towards the northern horizon and pads nimbly away. The rains were late this year, the ground dry and cracked. Even as he prowls across the parched land his paws bring up thick clouds of dust and sand, swarms of irritating particles that clog his nostrils and restrict his breathing.
The water truce would surely have been called by now.
Shere Khan had not heard the pheal of the jackal, nor the mocking laugh of the hyena, in many a day. His servants had either succumbed to the summer heat, or had retreated back to the man villages, where water, though scarce, could always be found by those wily enough. Khan did not miss their company, though he did regret the absence of their eyes, ears and noses. The lesser predators were a burden in some ways, but the tiger lord had always found use for those who would follow his trail. And though he held no great affection for wolves, having the nose of such a creature close by might well prove useful.
“Come then. I can lead you to water,” he muttered. “But do not expect me to intervene if some other pack takes exception to your presence.”