fool's gold
#16
[html]
Hurhur Gabe is funny.
    There was a part of Gabriel that fully fell in line with pack mentality. Generations of his ancestors had done so, for protection and survival, and this world-memory clung to his instincts as it rightfully should have. Even the coyote part of his brain knew that there was strength in numbers. Perhaps though, too, this part of his brain had been the call to leave. He no longer felt such a thing—but then again, he no longer looked like a coyote.
    “I have,” he explained, finding no ill in doing so. “I spent several months in the southwest. Burnt the need to wander out of me, you might say.” And, at this joke, he smiled. It was a peculiar thing, because Gabriel felt no humor about the situation. SoCal, though he did not know it by this name, had needed to be cleansed. Just as their old home across the mountains had so fallen, for it was the Hand and Will of the Creator that demanded lives, not Gabriel’s own. “Where are you from?” He asked, focusing his eyes back on Hezekiah.


table by alli

[/html]


Messages In This Thread

Forum Jump: