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He had to give up. Razekiel obviously couldn't be swayed no matter what he said. He seemed dead set on the fact that Cass was "bringing him down" using stereotypes. Cass put his hands up and sighed. "I ain't gonna argue with ya no more. I can see yer point," he chuckled, trying to shrug off the situation. He wasn't exactly handling it so well. In any case, he wanted to move on, keeping Razekiel in a remotely good mood. Crackheads, or whatever Raze was, are not exactly the calmest people when on a high.
Razekiel didn't exactly like human things as much as Cassius did. But for the most part, Cassius grew up around human things, living right next to a large human city, namely New Orleans. Out here, there was nary a settlement save for the city of Halifax. As Cassius took a breath, he could still smell that strange scent he smelled when Razekiel first came back to his camp. It smelled odd, and Cass couldn't place his finger on what it was. "What 'bout that smell tha's everwhere's? 'S weird smellin'." He smelled near the tent, which had a stronger concentration inside. "I ain't smelled it a'fore."
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