It was as if he were a puppy again, being scolded by an elder for something he had done wrong. The boy’s blackened ears fell against his skull, his dismay clearly visible when Jefferson barked back at him. He would not tell him how to change, and yet it was what Silas desperately sought. Why could he not tell him? If he changed, and he was no longer a sinner, would his family return to him? Jefferson had said that Inferni was a sinful place. Did that mean that Silas had to leave the coyote clan behind? Leave behind Halo, the only person he had left? Features contorted in pain at the thought, though he was grateful for the feeling. At least the hurt of losing Halo made him feel alive – made him still feel like something more than just an empty shell.
But Jefferson said he could be saved. Salvation was possible. Pale eyes rose to find the scarred man’s face, uncertainty sketched across all of his features. He didn’t know how to begin his quest for salvation; he needed a mentor, but had none. He wanted Jefferson to be this person for him, since it appeared he was so knowledgeable, but he could not be saved. At least, that’s what the young Russian took away from his words.
"Vhat ‘ave you done?" A single hand rose into the air, almost pleading in the way it grasped at the air.
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