HE WAS A PRETTY YOUNG THING

Gabriel de le Poer · 01-12-2010, 07:32 AM

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Word Count: 250

In Character

The constant barrage of that unfamiliar noise was boggling. Hybrid never laughed, least of all at Gabriel. It was an uncharacteristic display that infuriated the charcoal brushed hybrid, whom was using all of his willpower not to somehow get to his feet and make his way to Hybrid, grab him by the throat and throttle all that horrendous laughter out of him. Unfortunately, the ice was not aiding this at all. Slowly, and this time with greater care then before, Gabriel pushed himself up onto his haunches in order to give his chest a break from the ice. It was cold and hurt like hell, but whether that was because he was so angry or because of the impact from the ice he did not know.

“I’ll give you something to laugh about you goddamned prick,” he grunted, but did not move forward. What more could he do? Essentially, they were stranded on the ice together, like two old men caught out in a storm where neither of them could make it back. Gabriel so badly wanted to throw caution to the wind and get over to the tawny coyote, and maybe then he’d stop with the laughter long enough to beg for the abuse that was coming his way. He’d made Hybrid eat dirt before, and this time Gabriel would, once he closed the ten feet or so between them, make sure he did the same with ice. Until they, they were at a standstill. Or, rather, sit still.

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