05-02-2010, 11:42 PM
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The lousy weather meant that Snake did not notice the wolf's approach until he was only a few dozen paces away. The coyote's attention turned to him slowly, his olive eyes catching the way that Daisuke treated him. He used to be so exuberant, but nearly killing someone who was apparently such a close friend did things to people—even those as sunny-natured as the golden wolf. Daisuke seemed incapable of looking him in the eye, keeping his eyes on the similarly-colored churning ocean. Snake returned his attention for the moment to his task, realizing that the bandage was as clean as it was going to get. He took it from the surf, wringing out excess water as he stood up straight. By that point Daisuke had come close enough to greet him.
Snake did not answer, remaining silent as he usually did when he was not totally sure on how to react accordingly. He pretended to be focusing on what he was doing—though he kept an ear turned toward Daisuke to catch what he had to say. He took the length of sea-soaked cloth and wrapped it around his torso again, his stoic face contorting slightly as the salt stung the angry wound. But he swiftly blocked the pain, dulling it to a nag in the back of his head. This was really nothing—Snake had had worse.
Now he fully faced Daisuke, his olive gaze resting unblinking on him—there was no apparent emotion within him, nothing except a quiet desolation. How had he been doing? This golden wolf would know that Snake had never softened the truth for someone's feelings. "No," he responded plainly, tying the bandage and gingerly placing the opposite hand on the place of the wound—pressure to hope that it would somehow encourage it to heal. "The war is over but things are still not at ease. I am hurt and my den is a charred wreck. Things have not been going well for a while." He did not really intend to incite pity—he just said things how they were. He would not treat pity well; he hated few things more. "How about you?"
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The lousy weather meant that Snake did not notice the wolf's approach until he was only a few dozen paces away. The coyote's attention turned to him slowly, his olive eyes catching the way that Daisuke treated him. He used to be so exuberant, but nearly killing someone who was apparently such a close friend did things to people—even those as sunny-natured as the golden wolf. Daisuke seemed incapable of looking him in the eye, keeping his eyes on the similarly-colored churning ocean. Snake returned his attention for the moment to his task, realizing that the bandage was as clean as it was going to get. He took it from the surf, wringing out excess water as he stood up straight. By that point Daisuke had come close enough to greet him.
Snake did not answer, remaining silent as he usually did when he was not totally sure on how to react accordingly. He pretended to be focusing on what he was doing—though he kept an ear turned toward Daisuke to catch what he had to say. He took the length of sea-soaked cloth and wrapped it around his torso again, his stoic face contorting slightly as the salt stung the angry wound. But he swiftly blocked the pain, dulling it to a nag in the back of his head. This was really nothing—Snake had had worse.
Now he fully faced Daisuke, his olive gaze resting unblinking on him—there was no apparent emotion within him, nothing except a quiet desolation. How had he been doing? This golden wolf would know that Snake had never softened the truth for someone's feelings. "No," he responded plainly, tying the bandage and gingerly placing the opposite hand on the place of the wound—pressure to hope that it would somehow encourage it to heal. "The war is over but things are still not at ease. I am hurt and my den is a charred wreck. Things have not been going well for a while." He did not really intend to incite pity—he just said things how they were. He would not treat pity well; he hated few things more. "How about you?"