running through the night and day.

Silas Agata · 11-25-2010, 06:00 PM

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If he were to say he wasn’t scared, he would be lying. He was scared of what Hybrid was capable of, knowing full well he was a warrior of the clan. He had not liked Silas ever since the boy had made the mistake of wandering past the borders, and he would not put it past the coyote to attack him again, even though he had been peacefully living within the ranks for almost a year now. Pale eyes remained locked on the crimson, and a Cheshire grin blossomed as the low rumble rising from Hybrid’s throat reached both of the Russian boy’s blackened ears.

He merely shrugged his shoulders in response, figuring it would be futile to argue with Hybrid. The pair of mutts were never going to see eye to eye, and Silas was smart enough to realize that. A matter that was more pressing, however, was whether or not Hybrid intended to let Silas pass. He would not come terribly close, but Silas’s path had planned to take him only a few meters off to one side of the Tesserarius. Frankly, Silas figured Hybrid would find that too close.

His pace did not slow, and his eyes never left Hybrid. The fingers of his left hand twitched, ready to fly to the combat knife attached to his belt loop if the need arose. He most likely wouldn’t win the fight, but Silas was sure to leave his mark, just as Hybrid had done those months ago.

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