the spark in my heart

[Jefferson Soul]

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wc358 -- Doubtful that Jefferson might have ever admitted it, but there was always a minuscule pang of envy for those he met whom at least remembered their own family. At least they were gifted with memories; they were lucky, having the capability to recall their parents through past events, warm or cold. They had something to look back on, to regret losing. They had something to miss, something to immobilize their thoughts when memories suddenly struck. Something to wonder about, and something to pray about. Jefferson had never been much for prayer or anything in that category, the skeptical agnostic brute he'd become, but he'd never had reason to. When he fell, he collected himself and got up again and kept walking. According to his memories, he had never reached the point where he had wanted help, whether from the family he didn't have or the impossible deus ex machina that had never looked upon him. He was okay with that. He told himself he was okay with that. "Fine, fine, don't start crying," the skeptic remarked, scratching at his nose. Some creatures were so unbearably predictable, and evidently Pendzez hadn't passed that little test presented so subtly. The were leaned back and resisted rolling his eye, but instead busied himself by adjusting the strap to the sling that captured his arm. "Just a passing thought, is all. No need to get defensive or snappy again. You said your name was what, ...'Pendzez'?" He straightened his back a little bit, one-eyed gaze moving to rest on the white male again. "Kind of exotic. Know what it means?" Had he questioned Pendzez further about his family, the white male might've sparked like a firecracker all over again and the last thing Jefferson needed was enemies in his own pack. ...Other than Deuce, or so he thought. He really could've cared less about the boy's parents, as it was an area Jefferson's unconscious empathetical skills laid low. Had the white male run into some drastic, life-scarring situation in his life, maybe the hybrid would've been a bit more interested. As for his own stories, though, Jefferson had no interest in discussing.

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