Mars looked at the male between two sets of eyes. One was the eyes of the analytical Mars, and the other, through the teasing eyes of Bartholomew. Mars eyes traveled up and down the other male in front of him. Mars noticed the hilt of the knife being touched. It made him wonder if the male was going to attack him. Actually, he was expecting it. He could imagine the male all of a sudden launching at him, knife in hand. The thing about it, is that Mars could imagine himself freezing up and not even moving. It'd probably be Bartholomew if he would move out of the way. Mars had been punished with sharp objects before, and he had the logic in his mind that 'if you run, they'll just catch you later and hurt you even more than they would have in the beginning if you just sat there and took it like a man'. This was one of the many little lessons that he had learned when he was with Lyndi. No matter how much it hurt, he wasn't supposed to cry. No matter how much it hurt, he was not supposed to scream out. He was just supposed to sit there and take the torture, and eventually they attacker would back off because Mars wasn't an interesting kill.. At all. Mars would be tortured until Bartholomew would take over, and Bartholomew knew of pain. Bartholomew would react. This was why his mother would coax Bartholomew out of the mind of the beast and torture him. And to think, all Mars wanted was some love. He didn't need the torture that he got back in Fresno.
The other had spoken to him, telling Mars that he didn't want it to be true. Mars thought differently. If there was anything in the world, he wished that he was right to pursue his father. He wanted to be able to have a family that cared for him rather than having to think that everything that Lyndi had told him was a lie. The kid also introduced himself as Anatoliy Russo, son of Rurik Russo. So that would mean that they were half brothers if this Rurik Russo was the father of Mars. Mars looked at the other, straight in the eye, the other did the same, and there was something in the eyes of the other male that had told Mars to dare the other of what he just said. Mars did not. Instead, he adverted his gaze yet again. He was a wolf, and he knew about the customs of submission. If Mars was not on the steed, and perhaps in his lupus form, the male would more than likely be on his back with his belly to the sky in front of the other male. I'm nothing but a bastard child. the male spoke, his voice still low like it had been the whole time. Is there any way that I would be able to speak to him anyways? Just to...uhhm. Mars lost his words in the middle of his sentence before he continued. Verify things?
Mars Speaks Bartholomew Speaks
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