12-01-2009, 10:53 PM
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Snake was vaguely curious about this other coyote that had managed to lay hands on a working gun—partially because Snake would’ve liked to know where he had found the ammo for it, or how he had found a functioning one, or how he had restored it to working condition. All he knew was that he was growing even more fascinated with his find, and was sure that many of his empty hours would be taken with examining it a little more and trying to find out how it might have worked before. To move forward, you often had to look back—and that was Snake’s plan of action when it came to what he’d do with the seemingly-useless Hayter’s handgun.
Regardless, the golden coyote hadn’t noticed the lack of congruency between his own personal thoughts and the conversation until Daisuke informed him with an amused smile and a laugh. The green-eyed canid’s ears flicked back for a moment, but it didn’t seem like a bad idea. At least, Daisuke told him it wasn’t. “Just because we share the same name doesn’t mean I necessary have to like the things,” he muttered. Actually, like everything, Snake was indifferent towards his reptilian namesake. And in even deeper truth, Nikita had had an old story that she had heard in mind when she had named her last son—a story about a broken and tragic hero with no name, but went by that of Snake.
He was still iffy on the idea of having a last name regardless, so he merely stored it away as a potential idea. Maybe he’d try to introduce himself as Snake Hayter once or twice to see how it would work. Maybe there were names out there better for him—he wasn’t setting anything in stone yet. No, Snake had never been so intrepid.
“Oh really?” the coyote intoned as he took another drink from his own bottle, the ghost of a smile appearing on his face before disappearing. “Well, I’m not sure about you, but I’ve found all I want here. Want to try another store?” Another swig from the burning Russian brew.
Snake was vaguely curious about this other coyote that had managed to lay hands on a working gun—partially because Snake would’ve liked to know where he had found the ammo for it, or how he had found a functioning one, or how he had restored it to working condition. All he knew was that he was growing even more fascinated with his find, and was sure that many of his empty hours would be taken with examining it a little more and trying to find out how it might have worked before. To move forward, you often had to look back—and that was Snake’s plan of action when it came to what he’d do with the seemingly-useless Hayter’s handgun.
Regardless, the golden coyote hadn’t noticed the lack of congruency between his own personal thoughts and the conversation until Daisuke informed him with an amused smile and a laugh. The green-eyed canid’s ears flicked back for a moment, but it didn’t seem like a bad idea. At least, Daisuke told him it wasn’t. “Just because we share the same name doesn’t mean I necessary have to like the things,” he muttered. Actually, like everything, Snake was indifferent towards his reptilian namesake. And in even deeper truth, Nikita had had an old story that she had heard in mind when she had named her last son—a story about a broken and tragic hero with no name, but went by that of Snake.
He was still iffy on the idea of having a last name regardless, so he merely stored it away as a potential idea. Maybe he’d try to introduce himself as Snake Hayter once or twice to see how it would work. Maybe there were names out there better for him—he wasn’t setting anything in stone yet. No, Snake had never been so intrepid.
“Oh really?” the coyote intoned as he took another drink from his own bottle, the ghost of a smile appearing on his face before disappearing. “Well, I’m not sure about you, but I’ve found all I want here. Want to try another store?” Another swig from the burning Russian brew.
table credit goes to jacoby
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