12-18-2009, 05:23 AM
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All in all, the snow was neither unpleasant or unpleasant for Hezekiah. In fact, he was relatively neutral about it. It had both its pros and cons, or so he was recognising, and those things either made his life easier or made it more difficult. It was always one or the other. In the weeks that had passed since he had found himself in the care of Inferni, his social tolerance had come and gone. Sometimes he was more social, but for the most part, Hezekiah kept to himself. He hadn’t quite achieved that level of acceptance in the clan, at least in his mind. The headway he had made so far was diaphanous. It wasn’t like he didn’t do his so-called watchmen duties, but things had been so quiet that there wasn’t really much to report. Hezekiah wasn’t a seasoned anything (well, maybe a seasoned lacunar amnesiac). His perpetual greenness in skills kept him from being in the limelight for good reason — it was a little embarrassing.
Though he had divulged his general lack of skills to Kaena—who in turn had offered to teach him a thing or two when time allowed—he felt like there was something of a banner tied around his tail when it came to the topic. He learnt well through observation and had on several occasions, watched the various come-and-go creatures of Inferni do their thing. From a good distance, of course; Hezekiah dared not to repeat a chance meeting like he had with Anselm by disturbing anyone else’s acute senses. So while the cold nipped at his fingertips and pinpricked away at his nose as he moved quietly across the sloping and ever-changing terrain of Inferni, he mulled over the day and what it would have in store.
Which would apparently involve stumbling across Halo… and what appeared to be a graveyard of snowmen. It was the clean swipe of the sword in the frigid Canadian air that initially caught his attention, though he didn’t link the sound up to the sword until he had seen the glimmer of steel break through the crudely shaped bundles of snow. His steps slowed as he stood beneath the shade of a scraggily evergreen, innately curious of the trance she was in. With adeptly lightweight steps and turns, Halo was an example of fluid motion and sheer control, and that sort of thing was something he could admire. Perhaps not appreciate just yet, but it wasn’t hard for him to picture the reaction of imaginary somethings at the unfortunate end of her weapon of choice.