[He perks up, picking up on the sound of something approaching faster than most other humans might, crossbow out on instinct. He spots the wolf as he steps into view himself, and though his fingers tighten on the shot, he doesn't pull it.]
[Bellamy is used to animals, especially those with teeth, trying to attack him first, but instead the wolf just - flops over. It's impossible to miss the sight or scent of the blood, maybe extra visible in the snow, which makes the sight all the more puzzling.]
[He's not here to hunt predators though, and the wolf, for whatever fucking reason, shows no signs of hunting him. It's baffling, and some of that confusion is present in his face, by the simple virtue that Bellamy's emotions are practically a second skin.]
[He lowers the bow enough that a slip up would only fire off to the side (not that he'd slip up, not at this point), and he just sort of - stills, torn between curiosity and caution; there's something about the wolf that he feels instinctively as off, but it's still a wolf. It can still kill. He knows that.]
no subject
[Bellamy is used to animals, especially those with teeth, trying to attack him first, but instead the wolf just - flops over. It's impossible to miss the sight or scent of the blood, maybe extra visible in the snow, which makes the sight all the more puzzling.]
[He's not here to hunt predators though, and the wolf, for whatever fucking reason, shows no signs of hunting him. It's baffling, and some of that confusion is present in his face, by the simple virtue that Bellamy's emotions are practically a second skin.]
[He lowers the bow enough that a slip up would only fire off to the side (not that he'd slip up, not at this point), and he just sort of - stills, torn between curiosity and caution; there's something about the wolf that he feels instinctively as off, but it's still a wolf. It can still kill. He knows that.]