01-19-2010, 08:10 PM
630
[html]
Snake had realized how Inferni was much less strict than other places perhaps the day he had first met Gabriel—if they were more feral or rough like other places he had been, the leader would have commanded him to give up whatever food he had hunted down and Snake would have given it away, simple as that. Such things were not new to him—he had hunted rats while only a few months old in the bowels of New Haven, and whenever he managed to catch something Foxhound would almost mystically appear to try and take it from him. Snake’s twin had always insisted he was the dominant one—Snake usually did not argue, though it was more out of avoiding conflict than being submissive. He had never believed either of them to be better, though Patriot fed it into Foxhound’s head that he was, and that he had to prove it. Obviously things weren’t like that around here. The hierarchy was loose but understood; you followed orders from leaders and respected them, but they didn’t have to rub your face in it to make you acknowledge it. Snake liked this system of governing much more than that of his birthplace’s.
The young coyote’s training when it came to fighting was diverse—at least, so it was with whom he had sparred against in the past. Wolves, coyotes, dogs, and even once a dingo (whom had blown in from Australia and tagged along with his parents for a few days, as did so many others), and they all fought differently and all had different things to teach. But Snake knew his basic strategy, hammered into his head by Patriot himself. He had wanted Foxhound to strike like lightning and not ask questions—he was a sword, a hammer, an ax. But Snake was very different, and Patriot had wanted that. He told Snake to never strike first, to watch and wait and avoid until the moment presented itself. He was the shield, though a shield that was sharp on its own.
Regardless, his thoughts on a place of regrouping seemed to go over well on Inferni’s Aquila. Snake may not experience happiness readily, but there was definitely a pleasant feeling of satisfaction knowing that he had thought of something that might be useful. He nodded his head levelly as the hybrid remarked on the mountainside, and how it would benefit them. Snake was just about to suggest a trip when Gabriel did, so he merely had to nod his head again and say, “Yes, of course.” And then they were off towards the far northeastern corner of Inferni.
Snake did not come up here very often—it was a pretty long ways away from his home in the landfill, and it wasn’t exactly the most exciting place in the world. The slopes were littered with barren trees and rocks, sizing from boulders to pebbles. Snake eyed the rocks, immediately thinking of how useful of weapons they could be if the enemy was trying to charge up the slope. Running someone over with a sizable stone—that was a perfectly dastardly way to knock off one wolf. And one that he knew the coyotes were not over.
But what they needed to find out was where would be the best place to be. “We would probably need to find a high rise, with good visibility on all sides. It would be impossible to be snuck up on.” If they took the element of surprise away, they would not only be on level ground, they would have the upper-hand—not to mention that they would have the high ground as well. Snake was beginning to feel optimistic, which was odd enough for him. Usually he was the most deadpan of realists.
[/html]
[html]
Snake had realized how Inferni was much less strict than other places perhaps the day he had first met Gabriel—if they were more feral or rough like other places he had been, the leader would have commanded him to give up whatever food he had hunted down and Snake would have given it away, simple as that. Such things were not new to him—he had hunted rats while only a few months old in the bowels of New Haven, and whenever he managed to catch something Foxhound would almost mystically appear to try and take it from him. Snake’s twin had always insisted he was the dominant one—Snake usually did not argue, though it was more out of avoiding conflict than being submissive. He had never believed either of them to be better, though Patriot fed it into Foxhound’s head that he was, and that he had to prove it. Obviously things weren’t like that around here. The hierarchy was loose but understood; you followed orders from leaders and respected them, but they didn’t have to rub your face in it to make you acknowledge it. Snake liked this system of governing much more than that of his birthplace’s.
The young coyote’s training when it came to fighting was diverse—at least, so it was with whom he had sparred against in the past. Wolves, coyotes, dogs, and even once a dingo (whom had blown in from Australia and tagged along with his parents for a few days, as did so many others), and they all fought differently and all had different things to teach. But Snake knew his basic strategy, hammered into his head by Patriot himself. He had wanted Foxhound to strike like lightning and not ask questions—he was a sword, a hammer, an ax. But Snake was very different, and Patriot had wanted that. He told Snake to never strike first, to watch and wait and avoid until the moment presented itself. He was the shield, though a shield that was sharp on its own.
Regardless, his thoughts on a place of regrouping seemed to go over well on Inferni’s Aquila. Snake may not experience happiness readily, but there was definitely a pleasant feeling of satisfaction knowing that he had thought of something that might be useful. He nodded his head levelly as the hybrid remarked on the mountainside, and how it would benefit them. Snake was just about to suggest a trip when Gabriel did, so he merely had to nod his head again and say, “Yes, of course.” And then they were off towards the far northeastern corner of Inferni.
Snake did not come up here very often—it was a pretty long ways away from his home in the landfill, and it wasn’t exactly the most exciting place in the world. The slopes were littered with barren trees and rocks, sizing from boulders to pebbles. Snake eyed the rocks, immediately thinking of how useful of weapons they could be if the enemy was trying to charge up the slope. Running someone over with a sizable stone—that was a perfectly dastardly way to knock off one wolf. And one that he knew the coyotes were not over.
But what they needed to find out was where would be the best place to be. “We would probably need to find a high rise, with good visibility on all sides. It would be impossible to be snuck up on.” If they took the element of surprise away, they would not only be on level ground, they would have the upper-hand—not to mention that they would have the high ground as well. Snake was beginning to feel optimistic, which was odd enough for him. Usually he was the most deadpan of realists.