01-03-2010, 10:18 PM
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Axle watched intently as Anselm began packing the bowl. He was eager to smoke, having not done so in a couple years and wondered if it would be like riding a bike--once you've done it you never forget how. Though the garage was in a considerably inconspicuous location, there was always going to be a couple lurkers who might happen upon it by pure luck. And if word got out about an unguarded haven for good pot, there was no telling what kind of break-ins might occur. Hell, Anselm could lose everything in the garage if the knowledge of its location was passed on to the right people. The safe was a good protective measure, but if he intended to expand as he said he did, there was little a safe could do.
It was then that Axle was hit by what he was sure to be a stroke of brilliance. "Yuh know, Grit n' me could watch over da place for yuh. We ain't got no ties to any place in perticuluh, floaters, we is. But if we 'ad a reason to stick 'round, we could. Might be nice to 'ave a shelter n' constant food supply like yuh say there is. We's purdy good guard dogs," he laughed, opening his arms to show a gesture that said the offer was on the table.
When Anselm put the lighter and bowl on the table, Axle waited to see if his companion would take the initiative, though he doubted it. History told Axle that Grit was a follower, he did only when Axle did first. Smirking at the thought, Axle leaned forward and picked up both objects. Smiling, he placed the bowl to his lips and lit it, sucking in hard and holding it for a good few seconds to enjoy the burn before blowing out the smoke slowly. Not even a cough.
"Good shit, man," he said before proceeding to take another hit while Grit answered Anselm's question.
"We from da midwest," Grit stated plainly. "Ain't much but wide open fields for da most part. Lotsa ranches, dat's where we'd live mostly, lotsa dogs like us live on da ranches down der. Built lil packs wit da ranches at da center and expanded upon dem. We pretty handy wit da tools and such, did a lotta fixin' up and maintenance for dem," he explained, though his eyes were on Axle as he tried to get an idea of how to smoke, hoping he wouldn't look like a fool when it was his turn. "Like he said, we drifters, never stayed in one place too much. Was kinda borin for da most part, up 'ere we see a lot more activity. Lot more wolves too, less like us, yeh? "
Axle then handed him the bowl and lighter. Grit uttered a nervous chuckle and gripped them both tightly, hesitating a moment before repeating what he'd seen Axle do. As soon as he sucked in he fell into a coughing fit, unable to stop till tears streamed down his cheeks and Axle had to pound his back. "Yuh alright der buddy?" Grit simply nodded and smiled sheepishly, setting down the bowl and lighter as he tried to find his pride, for it had seemed to run away laughing a few moments ago.
It was then that Axle was hit by what he was sure to be a stroke of brilliance. "Yuh know, Grit n' me could watch over da place for yuh. We ain't got no ties to any place in perticuluh, floaters, we is. But if we 'ad a reason to stick 'round, we could. Might be nice to 'ave a shelter n' constant food supply like yuh say there is. We's purdy good guard dogs," he laughed, opening his arms to show a gesture that said the offer was on the table.
When Anselm put the lighter and bowl on the table, Axle waited to see if his companion would take the initiative, though he doubted it. History told Axle that Grit was a follower, he did only when Axle did first. Smirking at the thought, Axle leaned forward and picked up both objects. Smiling, he placed the bowl to his lips and lit it, sucking in hard and holding it for a good few seconds to enjoy the burn before blowing out the smoke slowly. Not even a cough.
"Good shit, man," he said before proceeding to take another hit while Grit answered Anselm's question.
"We from da midwest," Grit stated plainly. "Ain't much but wide open fields for da most part. Lotsa ranches, dat's where we'd live mostly, lotsa dogs like us live on da ranches down der. Built lil packs wit da ranches at da center and expanded upon dem. We pretty handy wit da tools and such, did a lotta fixin' up and maintenance for dem," he explained, though his eyes were on Axle as he tried to get an idea of how to smoke, hoping he wouldn't look like a fool when it was his turn. "Like he said, we drifters, never stayed in one place too much. Was kinda borin for da most part, up 'ere we see a lot more activity. Lot more wolves too, less like us, yeh? "
Axle then handed him the bowl and lighter. Grit uttered a nervous chuckle and gripped them both tightly, hesitating a moment before repeating what he'd seen Axle do. As soon as he sucked in he fell into a coughing fit, unable to stop till tears streamed down his cheeks and Axle had to pound his back. "Yuh alright der buddy?" Grit simply nodded and smiled sheepishly, setting down the bowl and lighter as he tried to find his pride, for it had seemed to run away laughing a few moments ago.