08-18-2009, 02:19 PM
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WC: 300+
Heath downed his first shot, and now the two men were even, savoring the burn that warmed their bellies, and feeling the thirst creep into their throats. Jacquez watched with greedy eagerness as the alcohol splashed into the clouded glass for a third time, his turn. He could never get enough, not really. Drinking made him more clever, made the words flow more smoothly to his silver tongue. Without it he was... normal. And that would not do. Not at all. His fiery tail waved behind him, thumping against the stool he sat upon, awaiting his next indulgence as his companion waxed poetic in their natural tongue. (Or at least, he believed it was his natural tongue - he had been able to speak snatches of French for as long as he could remember. He had no recollection of where he had learned it, though.)
Heath's last utterance, serious in tone and coupled with the return of the drinking glass, made Jac pause for a moment. His dark eyes squinted, studying the coy-wolf carefully, his white-marked fingers drumming on the bar counter. "Of course she does," he replied casually, as though it were the most obvious fact in the world. Ruri worried about everything and everyone, all of the time. It was her 'thing'. She had always been a fretful and clingy little one, only at ease when she was touching those she cared about.
"But... why do you know this? Why does it matter so?" The two had mentioned each other before, but he had dismissed it as Ruri caring too much for a stray again, as she had with Haven... and Heath the wanderer being charmed by her naivety. And perhaps that still rang true, but now the monarch was growing wary. Did this scruffy hybrid take advantage of Jac's absence and visit the blind girl more frequently...? He liked Heath, for his attitude and his accent and his good taste, but... there was a limit to how close others were allowed to get to Ruri. Huffily, he closed his claws around the glass, swallowing his share of vodka.
Heath downed his first shot, and now the two men were even, savoring the burn that warmed their bellies, and feeling the thirst creep into their throats. Jacquez watched with greedy eagerness as the alcohol splashed into the clouded glass for a third time, his turn. He could never get enough, not really. Drinking made him more clever, made the words flow more smoothly to his silver tongue. Without it he was... normal. And that would not do. Not at all. His fiery tail waved behind him, thumping against the stool he sat upon, awaiting his next indulgence as his companion waxed poetic in their natural tongue. (Or at least, he believed it was his natural tongue - he had been able to speak snatches of French for as long as he could remember. He had no recollection of where he had learned it, though.)
Heath's last utterance, serious in tone and coupled with the return of the drinking glass, made Jac pause for a moment. His dark eyes squinted, studying the coy-wolf carefully, his white-marked fingers drumming on the bar counter. "Of course she does," he replied casually, as though it were the most obvious fact in the world. Ruri worried about everything and everyone, all of the time. It was her 'thing'. She had always been a fretful and clingy little one, only at ease when she was touching those she cared about.
"But... why do you know this? Why does it matter so?" The two had mentioned each other before, but he had dismissed it as Ruri caring too much for a stray again, as she had with Haven... and Heath the wanderer being charmed by her naivety. And perhaps that still rang true, but now the monarch was growing wary. Did this scruffy hybrid take advantage of Jac's absence and visit the blind girl more frequently...? He liked Heath, for his attitude and his accent and his good taste, but... there was a limit to how close others were allowed to get to Ruri. Huffily, he closed his claws around the glass, swallowing his share of vodka.