Oddly, he did not notice her change in speech. He would have if he had been focusing more on the words and not the tone, but he was a creature who had become used to a difference sort of communication. In signs and gestures he saw volumes, in muscles he saw poetry, and in battle there was a great debate that raged. Ezekiel knew so many in this way, and he was thankful for it. Everything outside of battle, even his sister, felt strange and foreign to him. His pale eyes darkened a little, thinking. “No, he doesn’t really speak it. I picked some of it up from Marlowe, and once I left I learned more on the way. Some of the people I stayed with spoke it, so I learned from them.”
She pulled away and offered an explanation. Ezekiel subconsciously stiffened. Of all the places to go, knowing she had been under his nose and he had left was infuriating. He had lost her trail along the way and been separated from his family for years. Yet the anger was not obvious, and it was not at her—it was at circumstance and fate. The coyote identified those things he could not control with the path laid out before him. God had a plan. If he believed nothing else, he had to believe that. Turning back into the den, he went to the bow and arrows. Red feathers gleamed against the stone walls. “Catching dinner sound like enough of an adventure?” He asked as he pulled the quiver’s strap across his chest.
.ezekiel-x01 b {font-weight:bold; color:#000000; letter-spacing:1px; }
.ezekiel-x01 .ooc { font-style:italic; padding:0px; font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:11px;}
.ezekiel-x01 p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 10px; margin:0px;}
.ezekiel-x01 {margin:0px auto; width:450px; background-color:none; background-image:url(http://i1047.photobucket.com/albums/b47 ... ekiel1.png); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:none; padding: 10px 0px 20px 0px; font-family: georgia, sans-serif; font-size:11px; color:#111111; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;}
</style>[/html]