12-09-2009, 12:29 AM
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The somewhat unpleasant atmosphere of the Landfill no longer affected Snake. His very first home had smelled much worse, and it truly wasn’t that bad. All the organic matter that had been thrown out by the humans so long ago—and which would have caused the smell of rot—had long since returned to the earth. Now it was just piles of things that did not wear with time. Plastics, metals, rubber, synthetics. All pieces of forgotten technology that were naught but curiosities now. Snake almost felt akin to them. No matter what was said, he liked his home. It was quiet. It was lonely. It was how he had wanted to live life—for the most part, at least. He did not thoroughly enjoy company, but he did not spurn it. Caught between polar needs of solitude and socialization, he was most of the time simply prey to whatever his moods caught him in.
At this moment, he was largely indifferent… as always. He lost track of time, and the minutes began to tick by until something managed to happen. Not really to Snake’s surprise (for he knew that the wolf wouldn’t heed his warnings, no matter how he scolded him), Daisuke showed up. With the same smile on his face and even with his kitten tagging along, he seemed to be bearing gifts—two fish that looked freshly caught. Snake did not seem solicitous for his friend’s dangerous trespassing, and merely glanced at the fish and, after murmuring a quick, “One second,” he slipped from the roof of his car and moved to where the trunk was. He opened it, revealing a stash of dry kindling and firewood that was kept secure from the elements in the back of the car. He motioned for Daisuke to come to the other side of the car (as the car faced east, with the driver’s door facing the ocean; the passenger’s door-entrance and the firepit were on the south side) and then threw some firewood down on the remains of last night’s fire. It started to catch once more.
He also had with him a few lengths of wire that he kept under the car, for whatever necessary. He drew two out, holding one out to Daisuke. “Ever had cooked fish?” he asked. He had first started eating food cooked with his parents on the road, and he liked it much better than eating raw meat. He took one of the trout from Daisuke, sitting on the edge of the entrance to the car while he got around to drawing his knife and getting rid of all the guts and nonsense that probably wouldn’t taste all that good, cooked up in there. Once it was clean and gutted, he skewered it on the wire and held it out over the fire. It would take a little while, but Snake’s day was already brightened with the idea of cooked meat for breakfast.
After a few moments’ silence, he decided to bypass whatever harsh words he had for trespassing (Snake was getting to the point of just letting Daisuke get whatever punishment he asked for). And, even to his own surprise, he said in a quiet voice, “It was my birthday yesterday.” Even more surprising, “I didn’t remember it until this morning.”
The somewhat unpleasant atmosphere of the Landfill no longer affected Snake. His very first home had smelled much worse, and it truly wasn’t that bad. All the organic matter that had been thrown out by the humans so long ago—and which would have caused the smell of rot—had long since returned to the earth. Now it was just piles of things that did not wear with time. Plastics, metals, rubber, synthetics. All pieces of forgotten technology that were naught but curiosities now. Snake almost felt akin to them. No matter what was said, he liked his home. It was quiet. It was lonely. It was how he had wanted to live life—for the most part, at least. He did not thoroughly enjoy company, but he did not spurn it. Caught between polar needs of solitude and socialization, he was most of the time simply prey to whatever his moods caught him in.
At this moment, he was largely indifferent… as always. He lost track of time, and the minutes began to tick by until something managed to happen. Not really to Snake’s surprise (for he knew that the wolf wouldn’t heed his warnings, no matter how he scolded him), Daisuke showed up. With the same smile on his face and even with his kitten tagging along, he seemed to be bearing gifts—two fish that looked freshly caught. Snake did not seem solicitous for his friend’s dangerous trespassing, and merely glanced at the fish and, after murmuring a quick, “One second,” he slipped from the roof of his car and moved to where the trunk was. He opened it, revealing a stash of dry kindling and firewood that was kept secure from the elements in the back of the car. He motioned for Daisuke to come to the other side of the car (as the car faced east, with the driver’s door facing the ocean; the passenger’s door-entrance and the firepit were on the south side) and then threw some firewood down on the remains of last night’s fire. It started to catch once more.
He also had with him a few lengths of wire that he kept under the car, for whatever necessary. He drew two out, holding one out to Daisuke. “Ever had cooked fish?” he asked. He had first started eating food cooked with his parents on the road, and he liked it much better than eating raw meat. He took one of the trout from Daisuke, sitting on the edge of the entrance to the car while he got around to drawing his knife and getting rid of all the guts and nonsense that probably wouldn’t taste all that good, cooked up in there. Once it was clean and gutted, he skewered it on the wire and held it out over the fire. It would take a little while, but Snake’s day was already brightened with the idea of cooked meat for breakfast.
After a few moments’ silence, he decided to bypass whatever harsh words he had for trespassing (Snake was getting to the point of just letting Daisuke get whatever punishment he asked for). And, even to his own surprise, he said in a quiet voice, “It was my birthday yesterday.” Even more surprising, “I didn’t remember it until this morning.”
table credit goes to jacoby
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