01-16-2010, 10:26 PM
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530.
He believed that things were starting to change in the season. Winter was still upon them and it did not show many signs of fading into spring, but it wasn’t as unbearable as it once had been. Snake never really minded weather—heat and cold did not torture him as much as it would others, though he was always pleased when spring and fall rolled around. The more temperate seasons were usually when living was easiest, or so he believed.
It did not take long for Gabriel to reply, skidding down a small slope that led up to where the caves catacombed into the bedrock that Inferni was located around. It didn’t really register to Snake that he was in Lupus form until he had approached, and the young coyote found himself looking down to face him. It was not really that big a deal—if one equated shifted forms to different outfits of clothes, it was simply like being caught in your formal suit at a casual dance (though he was not sure who would be the one in the suit). He dipped his head respectfully, his tail flicking once or twice in order to establish some kind of amiable connection (though Snake was not really one who wagged his tail an awful lot). He touched his right fist to his left shoulder in a small salute.
“Gabriel,” he greeted neutrally, lowering his fist and looking up. “Yes—well, mostly. I wanted to speak with you as a Hydra rather than a Hastati, firstly,” he continued. It might have been an odd reason for anyone else, but New Haven etiquette created this. In Snake’s old home, the Big Boss would not directly speak with anyone except the Bosses—he thought it created order and discipline. Whenever one was made into a Boss, they would speak with the leader soon afterward. It was like a rite of passage. And though Snake had already spoken with Gabriel before, it seemed similar to him.
“And I was scouting the territory, thinking about what would be best to do if—the worst should happen. If Dahlia invaded while we were not ready, and we were forced to regroup somewhere within the territory. At first I thought the Caves would be an obvious place, as it is in the center of the area. But then again, they would probably expect this, am I right? And I fear that they would overwhelm us if we were to gather underground.” Sometimes groups that were against Patriot’s rule had met and plotted underground. When they were found out, Patriot sent the bulk of his forces to flush them out and smash them like bugs. It was a frighteningly easy and effective ploy. “I thought that the northern slopes, the Occasus Promontorium, might be a little more tactically defensible. Having the high ground is always an advantage, and it might take them a while to figure out we were in such a remote location.” He paused, shifting his weight somewhat nervously. “It is just an observation and opinion, of course.” It was not even guaranteed that Dahlia would unleash an all-out assault on them—before they did first.
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530.
He believed that things were starting to change in the season. Winter was still upon them and it did not show many signs of fading into spring, but it wasn’t as unbearable as it once had been. Snake never really minded weather—heat and cold did not torture him as much as it would others, though he was always pleased when spring and fall rolled around. The more temperate seasons were usually when living was easiest, or so he believed.
It did not take long for Gabriel to reply, skidding down a small slope that led up to where the caves catacombed into the bedrock that Inferni was located around. It didn’t really register to Snake that he was in Lupus form until he had approached, and the young coyote found himself looking down to face him. It was not really that big a deal—if one equated shifted forms to different outfits of clothes, it was simply like being caught in your formal suit at a casual dance (though he was not sure who would be the one in the suit). He dipped his head respectfully, his tail flicking once or twice in order to establish some kind of amiable connection (though Snake was not really one who wagged his tail an awful lot). He touched his right fist to his left shoulder in a small salute.
“Gabriel,” he greeted neutrally, lowering his fist and looking up. “Yes—well, mostly. I wanted to speak with you as a Hydra rather than a Hastati, firstly,” he continued. It might have been an odd reason for anyone else, but New Haven etiquette created this. In Snake’s old home, the Big Boss would not directly speak with anyone except the Bosses—he thought it created order and discipline. Whenever one was made into a Boss, they would speak with the leader soon afterward. It was like a rite of passage. And though Snake had already spoken with Gabriel before, it seemed similar to him.
“And I was scouting the territory, thinking about what would be best to do if—the worst should happen. If Dahlia invaded while we were not ready, and we were forced to regroup somewhere within the territory. At first I thought the Caves would be an obvious place, as it is in the center of the area. But then again, they would probably expect this, am I right? And I fear that they would overwhelm us if we were to gather underground.” Sometimes groups that were against Patriot’s rule had met and plotted underground. When they were found out, Patriot sent the bulk of his forces to flush them out and smash them like bugs. It was a frighteningly easy and effective ploy. “I thought that the northern slopes, the Occasus Promontorium, might be a little more tactically defensible. Having the high ground is always an advantage, and it might take them a while to figure out we were in such a remote location.” He paused, shifting his weight somewhat nervously. “It is just an observation and opinion, of course.” It was not even guaranteed that Dahlia would unleash an all-out assault on them—before they did first.