08-22-2009, 12:04 AM
Knock on wood, all but one of my instructors were/are awesome. The one instructor I've had who was basically a bitch and I dropped her class after the first night. For a school that prides itself on flexibility, she was about as flexible as a cinderblock. XD And I'm kind of surprised that Hezekiah isn't coming out as smooth as I thought because I've actually had his character worked out for the last four or five months in my head. I guess it's just translating the idea into something concrete where I'm having the problem. XD (I also like the tables you've been rotating in and out!)
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It was an unconventional meeting by all means, but it was a meeting. However doubtful it may have been that he would remember her name, it was comforting on some internal level to put a name to a voice and figure. A name that was unique as far sounds went to his ears, almost to the point of sounding a little bit foreign, but it was easy to say. Short syllables, soft ones. His eyes drew to the rush of copper on her muzzle as she spoke, catching the indiscriminate movements of her lips before moving on to try and see her better. In the fading light, he could see a few of the scars that were highlighted, but they didn’t come across as scars to him initially. In that proverbial haze he was in, they were just faded touches of colour to her face. The absence of an eye went unnoticed and before too long, he closed his eyes momentarily in a slow blink.
He almost contested her observation that he didn’t have a home, but there were just too many words to say all in a row. He went as far as to open his mouth though, only to find that it was dry—when had it gone dry?—and he closed it for a moment, long enough to hear her last question. When he opened it again, the first sound he made was entirely uncertain, but he finished with a dry and quiet, “I think so.” And just to test his coordination or lack thereof, he took a careful step towards the dark-haired canine. It was less than straight, but he didn’t list too far to one side or the once his hand had left the only thing keeping him grounded and upright. Aside from the prospect of help, that was at least a good sign.
“I, uh, I’m Hezekiah,” he told her, finding her steady one-eyed gaze again, and here he may as well have been trying to swallow a jar of cotton balls trying to say his own name. He didn’t even recognise his own voice, but it had come from him, somehow. It sounded like it belonged to someone who was smaller than he was and if not that, then to someone who was old and frail. Weak, he mentally supplied himself, not realising that he fit the synonym he had been after. He wasn’t weak, he was just weary and confused. Whatever had happened, wherever he was, he wasn’t supposed to be. He had a home somewhere… wherever that was.
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He almost contested her observation that he didn’t have a home, but there were just too many words to say all in a row. He went as far as to open his mouth though, only to find that it was dry—when had it gone dry?—and he closed it for a moment, long enough to hear her last question. When he opened it again, the first sound he made was entirely uncertain, but he finished with a dry and quiet, “I think so.” And just to test his coordination or lack thereof, he took a careful step towards the dark-haired canine. It was less than straight, but he didn’t list too far to one side or the once his hand had left the only thing keeping him grounded and upright. Aside from the prospect of help, that was at least a good sign.
“I, uh, I’m Hezekiah,” he told her, finding her steady one-eyed gaze again, and here he may as well have been trying to swallow a jar of cotton balls trying to say his own name. He didn’t even recognise his own voice, but it had come from him, somehow. It sounded like it belonged to someone who was smaller than he was and if not that, then to someone who was old and frail. Weak, he mentally supplied himself, not realising that he fit the synonym he had been after. He wasn’t weak, he was just weary and confused. Whatever had happened, wherever he was, he wasn’t supposed to be. He had a home somewhere… wherever that was.