the wandering souls on earth

Gabriel de le Poer · 01-14-2010, 11:28 PM

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Word Count: 250

In Character

Following his encounter with the peculiar fellow from the South, Gabriel had been leery of newcomers. It perturbed him, in a strange way, to be faced with the ideology that he himself had broken time and time again. The God he knew had changed since his time in the south. Twice now, he had heard the Voice, and twice now he had burnt the entirety of two nations to cinders. The land over the mountain would be healing, and by summer it would be green again. He had no idea what had happened with California, and cared little about it now. Except a problem had made itself and drugged out all the doubt that had risen out of the southwest, out of his past, and was something he had neither the time nor energy to deal with.

Luckily, it was Snake’s voice that had called, and not for him specifically. As he approached, having been on the borders as it was, he spotted the pair. The woman with the green eyed coyote didn’t look much like a coyote, but she was hardly wolfish. Gabriel was much the same, though he knew his heritage and knew that it was only by some odd genetic fault he had not turned out like his father. Slowing and forming the third corner of a triangle with the pair, his amber eyes focused on the girl intently, though he asked no questions. One of them would speak up, no doubt—which one, though, he wondered.

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