I lost this thread again. T_T;;
The coyote, as buzzed as he was, observed the nicotine's sink into the Russian's body and the calming effects that quickly took hold; he recognized those systems and knew them well, thus there was not the slightest doubt in his mind that they could be anything but good. He smirked childishly at the man's foreign words, an ear twitching as its language was nothing he recognized. As Silas tinkered with the lighter, the coyote grinned and mimicked, for no particular reason, "Spaaas'bo," and grinned ear to ear, clearly proud of himself for "learning" a foreign word, although it was clear that he had no idea what it actually meant.
"Inferni," he began, pointing a wobbly finger off into a completely random direction, "is my crib of choice, man. Way off somewhere. Coyotes together, bashin' everything that's got to do with wolves, man. I dunno if you're for or against, but you'd best tread elsewhere, man. Not a friendly bunch." He smiled, smoke billowing through his teeth. Inferni was where he now lived, yes, but in the coyote's opinion he was barely one of them. He didn't share their beliefs, their racism against wolves; that was how he saw it, of course, but in actuality he was exactly where he belonged. Razekiel had just never realized how much of an Inferni creature he was bred to be. "Mm, my clothes are free-fallin' and comfy, man," he smirked, pulling a little at his vest before hugging himself childishly. "I, uh, wish I could say the same for you, yeah?"
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