05-03-2010, 07:26 PM
Me too! <3
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The conclusion of this second Dahlian War had caused many effects in the residents of Inferni. Many were pleased to find that a peaceful equilibrium had been reached once more—an optimism that Snake found crudely constructed. Their main enemy was still lurking in the forests like some devil and Snake found himself distrusting Dahlia de Mai no matter who their new leader was. Of course, he was a generally distrustful man, so that wasn't anything new. But despite it all he couldn't find any peace within this peace; something was not right and he didn't know what. Whatever it was, it caused an almost constant uneasiness within him—that kind of feeling before walking into an ambush or the dry moment before lightning catches the fields on fire. He wasn't used to such stress; he didn't know how to manage it. It made a usually tense being unbearably so, and so he found it easiest to avoid the others for now. He could only hope that things would improve with time—they usually did.
Things would not appear to go that way to day. Sound betrayed the approaching coyote first, and he was vaguely aware that someone was out there as he walked around him in a silent loop. Snake did not worry and he didn't feel the need to say anything—either this mysterious someone would continue along their merry way and leave him alone, or they would approach. Things were simple like that with Snake. And so he waited and so the stranger appeared.
It was in his silent and meticulous approach that Snake realized he was no stranger—he remembered him from the fights and the meetings, one of the three heads of the Hydra that guarded the Inferni leaders. It didn't take long to him to dig up a name, Hybrid; Snake had a pretty good grasp on names whenever he heard one.
Snake did not relax even when he knew the other's identity. Mostly because he was not sure how he regarded Hybrid. He knew he was one of those in that other camp, those that preferred fighting. That already drew a negative connotation in Snake's mind—Hybrid committed one of the few cardinal sins Snake had when it came to judgments, and that was that he reminded him of his brother. Foxhound had sought violence like some kind of ultimate prize as well—a philosophy so opposite of Snake's own that it generally created no small stress. But while he might draw such conclusions in the back of his mind, those judgments rarely came into the forefront. Snake's mind was generally blank as he regarded Hybrid; he responded readily, his voice quiet, "Snake." His gaze remained unblinking on the other Hydra as he continued, "And you are Hybrid. It's nice to finally meet you." Though anyone who heard the words would question the intention. Snake's voice was generally no more than a monotone, and the lack of emotional inflection made things sound hollow. In this case, they were well-founded. The words were a trivial formality, nothing more.
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The conclusion of this second Dahlian War had caused many effects in the residents of Inferni. Many were pleased to find that a peaceful equilibrium had been reached once more—an optimism that Snake found crudely constructed. Their main enemy was still lurking in the forests like some devil and Snake found himself distrusting Dahlia de Mai no matter who their new leader was. Of course, he was a generally distrustful man, so that wasn't anything new. But despite it all he couldn't find any peace within this peace; something was not right and he didn't know what. Whatever it was, it caused an almost constant uneasiness within him—that kind of feeling before walking into an ambush or the dry moment before lightning catches the fields on fire. He wasn't used to such stress; he didn't know how to manage it. It made a usually tense being unbearably so, and so he found it easiest to avoid the others for now. He could only hope that things would improve with time—they usually did.
Things would not appear to go that way to day. Sound betrayed the approaching coyote first, and he was vaguely aware that someone was out there as he walked around him in a silent loop. Snake did not worry and he didn't feel the need to say anything—either this mysterious someone would continue along their merry way and leave him alone, or they would approach. Things were simple like that with Snake. And so he waited and so the stranger appeared.
It was in his silent and meticulous approach that Snake realized he was no stranger—he remembered him from the fights and the meetings, one of the three heads of the Hydra that guarded the Inferni leaders. It didn't take long to him to dig up a name, Hybrid; Snake had a pretty good grasp on names whenever he heard one.
Snake did not relax even when he knew the other's identity. Mostly because he was not sure how he regarded Hybrid. He knew he was one of those in that other camp, those that preferred fighting. That already drew a negative connotation in Snake's mind—Hybrid committed one of the few cardinal sins Snake had when it came to judgments, and that was that he reminded him of his brother. Foxhound had sought violence like some kind of ultimate prize as well—a philosophy so opposite of Snake's own that it generally created no small stress. But while he might draw such conclusions in the back of his mind, those judgments rarely came into the forefront. Snake's mind was generally blank as he regarded Hybrid; he responded readily, his voice quiet, "Snake." His gaze remained unblinking on the other Hydra as he continued, "And you are Hybrid. It's nice to finally meet you." Though anyone who heard the words would question the intention. Snake's voice was generally no more than a monotone, and the lack of emotional inflection made things sound hollow. In this case, they were well-founded. The words were a trivial formality, nothing more.