05-30-2009, 04:53 PM
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The stranger—Enigma, as he soon named himself—was mouthy. He was young, younger then Ezekiel, and struck him as having been taught little respect. For this reason, the coyote’s once placid temper was now on end. He couldn’t explain why or how his self control had begun to shatter, but it was. Four-legged, Ezekiel did nothing but regard the extended hand. Such formality seemed unbefitting for someone carrying a gun and speaking in riddles. “Ezekiel de le Poer," he responded flatly. “My father is the Aquila here. You’ll probably want to speak with him.” And yet, Ezekiel did not call for the leader, nor make move to do so. [/html]