Meep! There is a stampede running down the stairs right now. :o

---

Eventually the concrete of the city crumbled away to reveal the natural vegetation of Nova Scotia. Silas had spent much of his time within the old human buildings since he, his father, and sister had arrived. But now, Silas craved something more than the dilapidated city. He wanted to experience the greenery that he had been deprived of on his long journey across the ocean. Sidewalks were traded for foliage strewn dirt as Silas ventured into Arachnea's Revenge.

He ventured just north of the city, not looking for anything in particular aside from a change of scenery. What he happened upon was a small lake that looked rather unnatural. The surface of the water was an opaque icy blue, making it look as if it were possible to walk upon. Silas took a few steps down the gently sloping shore, before dipping a hand into the water. Was it safe to drink? He lifted a palm towards his face, sniffing gingerly at the pool he held. It seemed okay, but what made it look so strange? A flip of his palm sent the water falling back with a slight splash, before he raised his fingers to readjust the bandana at his neck. He let his eyes wander, searching for signs that other wildlife had been here. Had there, he would be sure it was okay to drink.

Ahhh, Penobscot. XD

Inferni probably had expected it of him, or at least his mother and Anselm should have. Inferni would learn soon that Razekiel was not "one" of them, so-to-say; the bloodthirsty morals that the clan had always lived by were long dead in the straw-eyed boy, though the most basic of emotions that he had been raised around still resided somewhere within his chest, primarily left to rest and unheeded. Razekiel was the earth's child, no longer just another crazed spawn of the deadly coyotes; the legacy he was born with, the expectations he had once abided by, and the title "Prince of Deceit" were something of the past, something he willingly chose to give up when he could have easily conquered any given enemy with such lineage and strength both behind him and in his every step.

Instead, he became a wanderer. Inferni was his home now, or at least some place he could return to when the winter came full force, but even after his long absence and the great separation between he and his family that resided there, Razekiel still found himself following his feet miles away, perfectly content to breathe the crisp, cool tint of autumn air and watch the auburn leaves fall -- leaves that had shifted in color to match his red mask and straw eyes. He'd smoked some mind-altering substance at some point earlier in the day, but the present time had left him only with a plain cigarette and his acoustic in his hands. The earth-loving idiot had taught himself to sing and play whilst balancing the tar stick in his mouth; it took some maneuvering with the tongue, but that was nothing. Razekiel had done far more with his tongue than he cared to talk about.

Ah, where was he? What did it matter; the air was fresh and clean, perhaps the remnants of rain in the area. The ground was somewhat damp beneath his bare feet, making a pleasurable squishy sound as he trampled along contentedly. Oh, a lake. Well, he was rather thirsty. One-track-minded, the dark-furred hybrid bent down to his knees, cupped his hands in the water, and slipped the fluid into his mouth without a second thought. It was not until a few more handfuls of drink that he stopped and stared at the water's color, but it hardly slowed him down. He noticed the presence of another momentarily despite his slightly dizzied head and off-tune humming, at which point he popped his cigarette back into his mouth, inhaled deeply, and grinned steaming and smoking teeth at the stranger from the distance. "The water tastes like magic, my brother," Razekiel murmured, straightening the circular glasses atop his nose.

    Lalala. Almost break time, yay!

---

His palm slid across his thigh, wiping away the moisture from that strange tinged water. A voice caught Silas’ attention and his gaze traveled further down the shore to where another hybrid was crouched at the water’s edge. More so than this guy’s words, the appearance was what caught Silas’ attention. Coppery hair had been left to collect into thick dreadlocks cascading down from his skull and Silas caught himself fixating on the red-tinted shades that adorned the stranger’s face. How strange, yet somehow oddly appealing. A playful grin caught the Russo boy’s features as he turned his gaze back on the water beneath him.

Cupping his hands, Silas trapped some of the oddly colored water into a small pool before raising it to his muzzle. He drained his hands, wiping at the moisture that had collected on his chin before looking back towards the stranger. "Mmm, magic," Silas replied with a hint of laughter in his words. This guy seemed cool enough and Silas had yet to really come across anyone else here who sparked some interest. Maybe he’d even find out some more information about this area, since so far he had managed to cling to the city’s edge. "You have another?" He asked the stranger, gesturing towards the cigarette held between his teeth. His English was still a bit shaky, but he had developed a fairly decent base in preparation for his arrival. Though Silas himself had never smoked, he was no stranger to cigarettes. Perhaps, if this guy had another, now would be the time to try. A little experimentation never hurt anyone.

Lalala, now it is break time! More yay!

Razekiel was always pleased when a stranger responded positively; all too often did the peace-loving hybrid greet a foulmouth who hardly appreciated the gift of language and familiarity. Too many people took for granted the capabilities of speech and communication by shunning a potential new face. As a result, of course, Razekiel had met many cold shoulders in his lifetime and had learned to respond appropriately: a smile, a wave, and a fond farewell. If one was not ready for his communication, then he would silence himself. Perhaps his unspeaking strangerfriends were simply listening to the Mother Earth's gentle whisperings instead -- and Razekiel himself knew the melodies and grace of the earth's pleasant voice. He would not interrupt those listening ears.

"Yeaaaah, maaan," he grinned toothily, the streams of smoke billowing through his teeth. He pulled at the large knapsack that crossed over his chest to his side, digging in it briefly before pulling out a half-filled package of cigarettes he'd found abandoned some time back. Humans' loss, his gain. The hybrid dizzily picked at one of the sticks in the package a few times before successfully grasping it in his fingertips. He then extended the tobacco stick with one arm and the lighter in the other. "Sounds like you been travelin', man," Raz smiled, his speech slowed and mellowed as always. "I thought I heard an accent on ya. Walkin' Mother Earth is my favorite thing to do."

    Yuss, I am glad to be home for a few days, despite my massive amount of homework to tackle. :3 Also, I <3 Razekiel hehe.

---

This guy’s voice was light and airy, his words coming out in long, slow sounds. Silas wondered if he perhaps mocked this guy’s way of speech, he might better be able to pronounce his English. Lily’s incessant use of Russian had caused Silas to revert back more often than not, and his English had already started suffering. He felt as if he was worse at it now, than he had been when his father has first begun teaching them at home and on the boat. While Razekiel rummaged through his things looking for another cigarette, Silas moved his way further up the shore so that he could rest beside his new friend.

He reached for the cigarette and lighter, settling himself on the ground and folding his legs beneath him. "Yes, on the ocean." He followed Razekiel’s lead, copying his method by holding the cigarette between his teeth. He held the lighter up to the end, but then was at a loss for what to do next. "From Russia," he clarified. Although his words were slightly muffled, there was a definite pride in the way Silas said the name of his homeland. "How you work?" He gestured at the lighter with his free hand, while the other waved it gently in the air.

Yeah, I have a paper to write, but I've yet to even think about it.

Russia. Razekiel knew of the place, but knew little of its culture or characteristics. As far as Razekiel was concerned, the world didn't need separation by countries: Mother Earth treasured every inch of the world and the sun was relentless even for the places that had once been ravaged by war and hate. Way back when, as Razekiel had once read, Russia had been the center of a long onslaught of destruction and war, or so the fried hippie thought. It was hard to remember, and he often confused his history.

His view of this stranger, however, went unchanged. Those wars had died with the humans. "Groovy, Rrrrrussia," the grinning hybrid gurgled, rolling the country's first consonant in the fashion his new friend had done. He continued his smiles and mellowed chuckles as he retracted the lighter, flicked at the wheel, and sparked a flame at its tip. "Click the spinner, man," the prince smirked, scratching at his head before straightening the bandana from which his many dreadlocks sprouted. He flicked the lighter's cap back on, dousing the flame temporarily before offering it up once more. "Get into it, guy. Take a load off." That said, the hybrid plopped down onto the ground, folded his legs, and straightened his glasses. "The great ocean ain't my kind of ride, man. Runnin' Mother Earth on my own stilts gets me places. I see flowers and foliage, not just sea and clouds." He rolled his shoulders.

Silas watched intently as Razekiel took the lighter from him and was easily able to produce a flame. His eyes were mesmerized for a moment until the cap was snapped on and the flicker ceased. The Russian grinned back as he took the lighter once more, raising it to the cigarette still held in his teeth. It took a few tries, but Silas was able to get the flame going. The paper retracted to reveal smoldering, red embers and Silas choked down his first inhaled breath of tobacco. He found his eyes watering and he coughed slightly (trying to repress it, since Razekiel had not).

He listened to the chatter of his new friend as he removed the cigarette from his mouth, unable to understand half the words spoken. Still, Silas felt as if he were in good company. "Flowers are nice," he commented idly, before returning the cigarette to his muzzle. Attempt number two went much more smoothly, and the Russian boy found that he liked the warmth spreading internally under his ribs. "Mmm," he muttered as he exhaled his second breath. "Tis good."

The coyote watched intently as the stranger explored the little flame that the lighter produced, figured out how to light the cigarette, and took his deep breath. A silly, stupid smile wiggled its way across Razekiel's face, his bright straw eyes wide and vivid against the surrounding red fur that masked his face. He watched the surprise and shock pass through the stranger's eyes before they subtly began to water, but the hybrid did not erupt in thrilled, almost hyena-esque laughter until the stranger made some sort of small, suppressed coughing sound. The prince knew that reaction well -- his had been identical the first time Juniper Peace had encouraged the tobacco stick to help ease the pain of his broken leg when he'd first been adopted by the earth-loving pacifists.

When Silas calmed, however, pleasure crossed his features and he seemed content with the strange little contraption the humans had created. "Can't have just one," the hippie murmured, smiling as he plucked another stick from the box he'd found and handed it over, extended in the same palm as the lighter. "Keep the lighter, man. They're hard to find, but I have a couple." He rolled his shoulders then, pulled the cigarette from his lips, and blew a puff of smoke into the air through his teeth. "What are you calling yourself, man? I'm Razekiel. My home's Inferni, but I'm a child of Mother Earth, man."