05-31-2009, 05:00 PM
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The second DaVinci retaliated, it occurred to Jefferson that he didn't have the patience he thought he did. A fierce scowl very suddenly darkening his face, the one-eyed brute immediately released his subleader's arm, allowing it to fall and bump against the chair (causing some sort of pain, one way or another), and naturally stopping his work on the wound and leaving it half done. The leader rose to his feet, sent the coyote a disgruntled, witless glare, and turned his back on him. "Fuck it, then," he snapped, lacking the sarcasm and wit he usually responded with to DaVinci's recklessness. "Lick your own damn wounds."
The second DaVinci retaliated, it occurred to Jefferson that he didn't have the patience he thought he did. A fierce scowl very suddenly darkening his face, the one-eyed brute immediately released his subleader's arm, allowing it to fall and bump against the chair (causing some sort of pain, one way or another), and naturally stopping his work on the wound and leaving it half done. The leader rose to his feet, sent the coyote a disgruntled, witless glare, and turned his back on him. "Fuck it, then," he snapped, lacking the sarcasm and wit he usually responded with to DaVinci's recklessness. "Lick your own damn wounds."
The hybrid, obviously restless and more stressed than he'd thought, moved away to lean against the door, trying to control himself. Stress and worry levels were high, meaning that his temper was unnaturally shorter than it usually was. Surely, DaVinci himself would see that. "I met some kids," he grumbled, resisting the urge to bare his teeth and punch out a wall in sheer, sudden frustration. "They attacked me. Ryan stopped by for you, too." A quick subject change: hopefully, it would work.