This autumn furred wolf would say the world is essentially a porkbarrel, his porkbarrel. Really, it's not just homids he sees as a free ride. It's anything which does not have quadrupedal movement, fur, and a successful defending argument.
The holder of such a philosophy tends to savor the finer things in life. This is true, but this enjoyment is coupled with a certain sort of melancholy, in Mhelarn's case. He does not feel that he does the world wrong. He feels that the world is wrong, and he does no harm by taking advantage of it.
If you ask him about the wrongs in the world, be prepared with the beverage of your choice. It'll be a while before he winds down. One of the major wrongs in the world is the existence of dogs. He loves dogs themselves, it's just that they seem so wrong, so helpless and so mute (compared to what he's used to). Hurt a dog and Mhelarn will try to see how many pieces you are made of.
He humbles Hrian at every opportunity. It makes him feel better and it's sort of a maintenance thing.
His coloration is a trifle brighter than the standard grey wolf, closer to the mexicanus subspecies, with more pronounced black undercoat and red/white ticking/banding. The color carries to the homid form, but the skin is pale, like he doesn't spend much time there. Hrian's dermis is more tawny.
His eyes are gold, or yellow, or buttercup or something.