For some reason, making a mess while roughhousing made it all the more fun and hilarious. And slush, that would dry in time. Wolf's parents were completely used to it anyway, because Wolf rarely if ever took his shoes off before walking past the foyer area at the front door, even in winter when his boots were caked with snow. He'd take them off eventually, but he was also impatient and if he had something in mind to do as he walked through the door, there was no way he was going to get in his own way just to keep the floor clean. The floor had no feelings, it didn't give a shit.
As they collapsed in a tangle on the couch, Wolf could feel Mao yelling something at him, but there was no way he could look up to catch it. He really doubted it was anything important, because the only thing that would have made Wolf feel bad would be if he'd somehow hurt Mao badly, but it was clear that was not what Mao was yelling at as a pinching hand found his cheek and did its worst.
"Urgh!" Wolf jerked his head, trying to get away from Mao's hand, which resulted in the world's least graceful getaway in existence as he rolled off his friend and fell top half on the couch, bottom half on the floor. At least, since his back was to the couch, he could slide entirely to the floor to sit against it.