01-16-2010, 01:37 AM
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388.
It was slow going, but it didn’t bother Snake—he was very patient, waiting whenever she was overcome with pain and had to rest. He understood partially what she was going through. If one’s mind was not conditioned to ignore pain, it was completely overwhelming to one’s system. When Snake had first begun pain training in New Haven, he had sometimes spent days alone, recovering from what had happened the day before. It was in those torturous hours that he had learned to distract his mind, to focus on other things, to lock away the pain so he didn’t have to deal with it. She didn’t have that ability. What she was feeling now might be just as excruciating as when Foxhound had sliced him open with a knife, leaving the one scar that was visible across his ribs.
Eventually they did make their way back to the Caves, and then to where Kaena kept hers along with Vieira. The injured coyote woman slipped away from Snake, who held back from the cave entrance—part out of politeness and part out of his fear of subterraneous areas. Apparently Vieira’s master was there, for she appeared at the injured woman’s side within a few moments. She looked between the girl and Snake, who did not move and did not speak. He was studying her expression. Was there anger? Guilt? Satisfaction? He was very suspicious of Kaena sending the virtually-defenseless coyote out on border patrol, though he kept that to himself for now. He had no place in telling the Centurion how to treat her property, even though he had felt much more righteous about it moments ago at his own den. He saw the confusion that eventually came upon Kaena’s face. He spoke up without warning, “I believe Vieira wants to tell you.” To show that fact, he took a step away, giving her the floor.
Sure, he could have said that she had gotten attacked. He could have boasted that he had driven off the trespasser himself, giving him some nasty reminders of the encounter—though he had gained one himself. He could have sniffed at bandaging her and caring for her. He could have questioned Kaena on what she was doing by sending the girl out alone anyway.
Instead, Snake did absolutely nothing.
He had remarkable self-control.
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388.
It was slow going, but it didn’t bother Snake—he was very patient, waiting whenever she was overcome with pain and had to rest. He understood partially what she was going through. If one’s mind was not conditioned to ignore pain, it was completely overwhelming to one’s system. When Snake had first begun pain training in New Haven, he had sometimes spent days alone, recovering from what had happened the day before. It was in those torturous hours that he had learned to distract his mind, to focus on other things, to lock away the pain so he didn’t have to deal with it. She didn’t have that ability. What she was feeling now might be just as excruciating as when Foxhound had sliced him open with a knife, leaving the one scar that was visible across his ribs.
Eventually they did make their way back to the Caves, and then to where Kaena kept hers along with Vieira. The injured coyote woman slipped away from Snake, who held back from the cave entrance—part out of politeness and part out of his fear of subterraneous areas. Apparently Vieira’s master was there, for she appeared at the injured woman’s side within a few moments. She looked between the girl and Snake, who did not move and did not speak. He was studying her expression. Was there anger? Guilt? Satisfaction? He was very suspicious of Kaena sending the virtually-defenseless coyote out on border patrol, though he kept that to himself for now. He had no place in telling the Centurion how to treat her property, even though he had felt much more righteous about it moments ago at his own den. He saw the confusion that eventually came upon Kaena’s face. He spoke up without warning, “I believe Vieira wants to tell you.” To show that fact, he took a step away, giving her the floor.
Sure, he could have said that she had gotten attacked. He could have boasted that he had driven off the trespasser himself, giving him some nasty reminders of the encounter—though he had gained one himself. He could have sniffed at bandaging her and caring for her. He could have questioned Kaena on what she was doing by sending the girl out alone anyway.
Instead, Snake did absolutely nothing.
He had remarkable self-control.