"Violent"? Yikes 0.0 Domestic violence much XD But they're getting there @_@ Btw; sweet table; listened to the song and went 'Squee~! Add-to-ipod!'
Noss got up to stand in front of Strel when the redhead's voice broke, but when what he really wanted to do was hold the man's shoulders, his hands remained at his side, lost for what would be right. "You didn't do anything, Strel." Before he could continue on that thought, he saw Strel's face contort with mixed emotions, anger at the head. Noss matched that narrow gaze as he felt his own patience begin to run thin; both with himself (mostly) and with Strel's lack of understanding. When Strel pointed to the doors, Noss lost all control of his movements and reached out to catch hold of the wrist that was pointing him away, attempting to hold Strel firmly in place for fear that he might run.
"I know family is important to you, so go and find your god forsaken sister. I don't want to look at you." That really hit a nerve. As used to Strel's antics as Noss was, they had never really brought up Ralla or Noss's family much, and Noss wanted to know just what Strel's authority was on how important family was to him. But that wasn't fair to Strel, and Noss had remembered that small tidbit that Strel had shared with him that first night about his previous pack. That, and Strel's refusal to want to see him. That seemed to strike just as deep. "Too damn bad," he said as he got his face in close to Strel so that their eyes could lock. Noss was in his intimidating posture now; hackles raised, shoulders hunched--as if his height weren't an advantage enough--and eyes sharp. All coolness in his voice had vanished, and he let all his emotions pour forth. "Cuz I don't believe you." There was no way that Noss was as smitten with Strel without some kind of reciprocated feelings, especially with the way that Strel was reacting. No one got that upset over someone they didn't care about even a little bit. "I don't believe that you don't want me here, and you shouldn't believe that all I want to do is go." That dam of holding back true desires was breaking; chipping away with every word he said. "You shouldn't believe you did one damn thing wrong, and... Moon, how can I make you understand!?" His own frustration had reached its limit as he struggled for the right words, a snarl underlining his sentences that was not meant for Strel, but mostly for himself. Just three words; three small, short words that he did not want to say, but what he knew were true, that would crumble life as he knew it and change it without hope of return.
In short; so much for plan A.
Warrior walks. "Warrior talks." Warrior thinks.
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