12-17-2009, 01:42 AM
It's all good. ^^ We'll figure it out when we get there.
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The stranger did not notice him off the bat, but after he stepped on some particular volatile leaves and twigs underfoot, he did attract his attention. Snake regarded him neutrally, his olive eyes reflecting the impassive expression on his face. The hybrid very vaguely reminded him of Gabriel (if not simply for his blood, mixed of wolf and coyote), though something that also reminded him of the Aquila was a certain look in his odd red eyes. It was a spark like misty recognition which gave Snake the suspicion that he looked familiar, though they had never met. It was odd to the younger coyote. He had never really noticed how much he and his parents looked alike, so it did not occur to him.
The stranger’s question, at first, confused him. Snake did not really understand any kind of casual or slang references, especially when it came to things like this. He refrained from saying that there was no news, sir, and sought a middle path between shrugging off the question and mistaking it for inciting an introduction. In the end, he merely introduced himself, “I’m Snake, the Hastati.” He added his rank because, instinctually, he felt as though this stranger was one of those members of the clan that had been here a long time. Plus, he wanted to be distinguished from the rest of the newcomers—especially since he’d been here two months.
He remained cautious, even when the other male amiably offered whatever else was left of the carcass to Snake. Though he doubted it was a trick, he approached with measured steps. His eyes were, for a short while, incredulous in remaining on the red-eyed hybrid. But eventually he realized this could be interpreted as rude, and he focused on the food. He respectfully avoided the areas of the kill that the alpha might target, subordinate in mind as he used scything teeth to tear several mouthfuls of the meat from the corpse. After he swallowed and licked most of the blood from his lips, he regarded the stranger with a blank expression and said, “Thank you.” Though his face could never be interpreted for his thoughts, his voice was a better avenue, and it was dutifully grateful. Snake was pleased that now his day was mostly clear—with food out of the way, he would have to find something else.
The stranger did not notice him off the bat, but after he stepped on some particular volatile leaves and twigs underfoot, he did attract his attention. Snake regarded him neutrally, his olive eyes reflecting the impassive expression on his face. The hybrid very vaguely reminded him of Gabriel (if not simply for his blood, mixed of wolf and coyote), though something that also reminded him of the Aquila was a certain look in his odd red eyes. It was a spark like misty recognition which gave Snake the suspicion that he looked familiar, though they had never met. It was odd to the younger coyote. He had never really noticed how much he and his parents looked alike, so it did not occur to him.
The stranger’s question, at first, confused him. Snake did not really understand any kind of casual or slang references, especially when it came to things like this. He refrained from saying that there was no news, sir, and sought a middle path between shrugging off the question and mistaking it for inciting an introduction. In the end, he merely introduced himself, “I’m Snake, the Hastati.” He added his rank because, instinctually, he felt as though this stranger was one of those members of the clan that had been here a long time. Plus, he wanted to be distinguished from the rest of the newcomers—especially since he’d been here two months.
He remained cautious, even when the other male amiably offered whatever else was left of the carcass to Snake. Though he doubted it was a trick, he approached with measured steps. His eyes were, for a short while, incredulous in remaining on the red-eyed hybrid. But eventually he realized this could be interpreted as rude, and he focused on the food. He respectfully avoided the areas of the kill that the alpha might target, subordinate in mind as he used scything teeth to tear several mouthfuls of the meat from the corpse. After he swallowed and licked most of the blood from his lips, he regarded the stranger with a blank expression and said, “Thank you.” Though his face could never be interpreted for his thoughts, his voice was a better avenue, and it was dutifully grateful. Snake was pleased that now his day was mostly clear—with food out of the way, he would have to find something else.