05-10-2010, 07:12 PM
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Hedonism was not something that Snake really understood—that was understandable, seeing as though his general emotionlessness included most pleasure. His life had been structured to be almost more monastical than anything, though it was disciplinary more than religious. Everything had been compromising to his purpose, and his purpose was to fight. Only recently had he attempted to shed this preconception, but part of him was waiting for the pain that would follow the lowered defense. It was not necessarily immediate; it had taken many meetings before his friendship with Daisuke had culminated in the scar that bisected his torso. But then again, part of him was disinclined to care at all. For someone who had gone without for most of his life, any pleasure was like a powerful drug.
When he moved to unwrap the bandages once more, Daisuke switched to where he could have a better look—though on his knees, the much taller lupine Luperci was only half a head from being at shoulder level with Snake. But after having observed the revealed wounds with his own disproving eye, he looked with some surprise to Daisuke's expression. Snake knew it was bad, but he hadn't really gotten any outside opinion before the golden wolf. His reaction made the coyote's stomach plummet a bit, and his frown deepen. "A Dahlian wolf," he growled in response, before adding somewhat defensively, "You should see him." While the white wolf had gotten him good, Snake could still feel the scrape of his canines against that wolf's shoulder-blade. Whatever he felt with this side wound, that wolf felt ten-fold. Snake was proud of himself—he was so much smaller, even in Secui form. Anyone would bet on the wolf, and the coyote would've won that bet.
What the wolf told him next was something that he had forgotten; this would be a stroke of luck, as Daisuke's non-Luperci youth had slipped his mind. His thoughts had turned optimistic when he froze up, the sensation of the wolf's fingertips across his stomach. He glanced down, though—as usual—he didn't do anything against it. Quite frankly, the feeling surprised him. Emotions were alien enough still that he didn't really have names for them, nor many precedents. He wasn't even really sure whether he liked it or not, with the fur along his spine prickling, and maybe that was what he was trying to figure out.
Meanwhile the wolf spoke about his family, things that Snake had never heard from him before. He didn't remember hearing that Daisuke's father was dead, or about his older sister. It was faintly intriguing, almost as much so as the use of mint to help heal his wounds. "Mint, huh," he repeated, somewhat absently, gaze focusing when he half-felt the wolf trace along the unfeeling scar tissue of the wound he had left so many weeks ago. The coyote gave a rough shrug at Daisuke's apologies, muttering, "What's done is done," as the golden wolf retracted his hand and stood up. He did as the wolf asked, re-wrapping the wound and rolling his aching shoulders as he went to follow. Snake had absolutely no clue when it came to natural medicine—his version of such was letting the wound heal itself. If Daisuke could track down some of this mint and use it to help him heal, though, that would certainly make his day that much better.
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Hedonism was not something that Snake really understood—that was understandable, seeing as though his general emotionlessness included most pleasure. His life had been structured to be almost more monastical than anything, though it was disciplinary more than religious. Everything had been compromising to his purpose, and his purpose was to fight. Only recently had he attempted to shed this preconception, but part of him was waiting for the pain that would follow the lowered defense. It was not necessarily immediate; it had taken many meetings before his friendship with Daisuke had culminated in the scar that bisected his torso. But then again, part of him was disinclined to care at all. For someone who had gone without for most of his life, any pleasure was like a powerful drug.
When he moved to unwrap the bandages once more, Daisuke switched to where he could have a better look—though on his knees, the much taller lupine Luperci was only half a head from being at shoulder level with Snake. But after having observed the revealed wounds with his own disproving eye, he looked with some surprise to Daisuke's expression. Snake knew it was bad, but he hadn't really gotten any outside opinion before the golden wolf. His reaction made the coyote's stomach plummet a bit, and his frown deepen. "A Dahlian wolf," he growled in response, before adding somewhat defensively, "You should see him." While the white wolf had gotten him good, Snake could still feel the scrape of his canines against that wolf's shoulder-blade. Whatever he felt with this side wound, that wolf felt ten-fold. Snake was proud of himself—he was so much smaller, even in Secui form. Anyone would bet on the wolf, and the coyote would've won that bet.
What the wolf told him next was something that he had forgotten; this would be a stroke of luck, as Daisuke's non-Luperci youth had slipped his mind. His thoughts had turned optimistic when he froze up, the sensation of the wolf's fingertips across his stomach. He glanced down, though—as usual—he didn't do anything against it. Quite frankly, the feeling surprised him. Emotions were alien enough still that he didn't really have names for them, nor many precedents. He wasn't even really sure whether he liked it or not, with the fur along his spine prickling, and maybe that was what he was trying to figure out.
Meanwhile the wolf spoke about his family, things that Snake had never heard from him before. He didn't remember hearing that Daisuke's father was dead, or about his older sister. It was faintly intriguing, almost as much so as the use of mint to help heal his wounds. "Mint, huh," he repeated, somewhat absently, gaze focusing when he half-felt the wolf trace along the unfeeling scar tissue of the wound he had left so many weeks ago. The coyote gave a rough shrug at Daisuke's apologies, muttering, "What's done is done," as the golden wolf retracted his hand and stood up. He did as the wolf asked, re-wrapping the wound and rolling his aching shoulders as he went to follow. Snake had absolutely no clue when it came to natural medicine—his version of such was letting the wound heal itself. If Daisuke could track down some of this mint and use it to help him heal, though, that would certainly make his day that much better.