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chapter ii—the she-wolf, an excerpt
from white fang
by jack london

breakfast eaten and the slim camp-outfit lashed to the sled, the men turned their backs on the cheery fire and launched out into the darkness. at once began to rise the cries that were fiercely sad—cries that called through the darkness and cold to one another and answered back. conversation ceased. daylight came at nine o'clock. at midday the sky to the south warmed to rose-colour, and marked where the bulge of the earth intervened between the meridian sun and the northern world. but the rose-colour swiftly faded. the grey light of day that remained lasted until three o'clock, when it, too, faded, and the pall of the arctic night descended upon the lone and silent land.

as darkness came on, the hunting-cries to right and left and rear drew closer—so close that more than once they sent surges of fear through the toiling dogs, throwing them into short-lived panics.

at the conclusion of one such panic, when he and henry had got the dogs back in the traces, bill said:

"i wisht they'd strike game somewheres, an' go away an' leave us alone."

"they do get on the nerves horrible," henry sympathized.

they spoke no more until camp was made.

read this line from the story:

"they do get on the nerves horrible," henry sympathized.

what does henry’s comment show about his character?
his concern for the sled dogs
his constant complaining
his need to comfort his friend
his need to take care of himself