07-20-2010, 09:14 PM
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Snake could carry a conversation—it had been something of an art, where he was from. Patriot had unfortunately liked to hear himself talk, and he had often ruled with a silver tongue just as much as he had with an iron fist. But for the young coyote, most of what he said to everyone here in Inferni was just a reptition of things that he had heard before. Snake had no creativity or originality—he relied entirely on previous precedent and instinct. He had been conditioned to be an intelligent weapon, and nothing more. That was why he had ignored his emotions until they had withered and died, and it was why he watched and waited instead of confronting something physically. Perhaps Hybrid read others by their movements, but Snake read them in their words, their emotions, their expressions. The other Hydra was pretty easy to read. He could tell without even looking that the man was irritated—there was a kind of energy around everyone, and his was noisy, buzzing like a hive of wasps. The blond coyote guessed that he was the reason for his irritation, but he didn’t feel like he could do anything about it. He was who he was, just as Hybrid was who he was.
If he put any stock in such things, he could have automatically disliked Hybrid. There was something in the man that reminded him entirely of his brother—Foxhound had been exactly the same. He had relied on his fury to overpower everything in his way; Snake had seen the chinks in this armor, and he had exploited them. That would make Foxhound angrier, which would make him easier to defeat. Snake silently made a note not to either pick a fight or try to spar with Hybrid. He had anger, and he believed he could sense pride. Both would lead to danger for the younger coyote, who couldn’t understand either.
He absorbed the information, just as he had when Kaena had told him the history of the pack. The first Inferni he knew of, the one further up the coast that existed before Gabriel took the survivors over the mountains. Segodi sounded vaguely familiar, though he had never heard of Clouded Tears. Probably history that did not directly affect him and Inferni—therefore, irrelevant. He could sense the hesitant nature in Hybrid’s words, but was unable to tell if it was the topic or just the talking that caused it. Probably didn’t matter.
As for his history, it was something he had recited several times before—it was almost second-nature. “From an old human city out to the west.” He knew that because, in the stories of this place his mother told, she mentioned it being on the east coast. He knew that east was where the sun rose, so he had followed the rising sun. And that was how he came to these lands, and the borders of Inferni. “Its ruler called it New Haven. It was not a good place. I was kept prisoner through most of my time there.”
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Snake could carry a conversation—it had been something of an art, where he was from. Patriot had unfortunately liked to hear himself talk, and he had often ruled with a silver tongue just as much as he had with an iron fist. But for the young coyote, most of what he said to everyone here in Inferni was just a reptition of things that he had heard before. Snake had no creativity or originality—he relied entirely on previous precedent and instinct. He had been conditioned to be an intelligent weapon, and nothing more. That was why he had ignored his emotions until they had withered and died, and it was why he watched and waited instead of confronting something physically. Perhaps Hybrid read others by their movements, but Snake read them in their words, their emotions, their expressions. The other Hydra was pretty easy to read. He could tell without even looking that the man was irritated—there was a kind of energy around everyone, and his was noisy, buzzing like a hive of wasps. The blond coyote guessed that he was the reason for his irritation, but he didn’t feel like he could do anything about it. He was who he was, just as Hybrid was who he was.
If he put any stock in such things, he could have automatically disliked Hybrid. There was something in the man that reminded him entirely of his brother—Foxhound had been exactly the same. He had relied on his fury to overpower everything in his way; Snake had seen the chinks in this armor, and he had exploited them. That would make Foxhound angrier, which would make him easier to defeat. Snake silently made a note not to either pick a fight or try to spar with Hybrid. He had anger, and he believed he could sense pride. Both would lead to danger for the younger coyote, who couldn’t understand either.
He absorbed the information, just as he had when Kaena had told him the history of the pack. The first Inferni he knew of, the one further up the coast that existed before Gabriel took the survivors over the mountains. Segodi sounded vaguely familiar, though he had never heard of Clouded Tears. Probably history that did not directly affect him and Inferni—therefore, irrelevant. He could sense the hesitant nature in Hybrid’s words, but was unable to tell if it was the topic or just the talking that caused it. Probably didn’t matter.
As for his history, it was something he had recited several times before—it was almost second-nature. “From an old human city out to the west.” He knew that because, in the stories of this place his mother told, she mentioned it being on the east coast. He knew that east was where the sun rose, so he had followed the rising sun. And that was how he came to these lands, and the borders of Inferni. “Its ruler called it New Haven. It was not a good place. I was kept prisoner through most of my time there.”