02-11-2010, 12:03 AM
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It was in Snake's state of mental contemplation that Daisuke had moved to gather up his guitar, setting it in his lap and strumming out the chords of the song that he had written for the coyote. It was an interesting juxtaposition, the song that one had created out of affection for one that, only days ago, he had fought. But it seemed that Daisuke did not know of that. He allowed the music to continue for a few moments before fixing his gaze upon the golden wolf. When he looked up to find the coyote's gaze on him, he froze—the music abruptly stopped, replaced by the sounds of the fire. Snake was blithely amused to find that he had such power over the wolf; perhaps a little bit of Foxhound's personality showing up in his twin.
It was rather disturbing, listening to what Daisuke thought had happened. Snake suddenly had conflict of conscience—should he tell his friend what really happened, or let him believe what his mind had fabricated for him? At first he really did consider letting it pass, but he realized that it was changes like that in his iron personality that had cost him the fight in the first place. Out of bitterness he resolved to his old resolves, his reliance on the truth steadfast. "Yes, I know what happened," he said slowly, his gaze unblinking and reptilian, slightly hooded by his bandanna. "I was tired and hurting, so I went to sleep early. I forgot to call you. And then suddenly you were on the doorstep to the Landfill. I tried to get you to leave and you attacked me." As he spoke his expression grew more and more dull until it more resembled a mask than a face. "I defended myself, but I did not want to hurt you. Which is why I'm like this." His tone grew somewhat bitter in the last statement, another glimpse of the far more selfish side of Snake. He was angry that he had compromised himself because of his attachments to someone else—it was exactly what he had wanted to avoid. Sure, that might be a little offensive to the person whose friendship was being talked down on, but Snake didn't see that. He was injured, worthless, and full of loathing for himself and others. He had trouble seeing much else at the moment.
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It was in Snake's state of mental contemplation that Daisuke had moved to gather up his guitar, setting it in his lap and strumming out the chords of the song that he had written for the coyote. It was an interesting juxtaposition, the song that one had created out of affection for one that, only days ago, he had fought. But it seemed that Daisuke did not know of that. He allowed the music to continue for a few moments before fixing his gaze upon the golden wolf. When he looked up to find the coyote's gaze on him, he froze—the music abruptly stopped, replaced by the sounds of the fire. Snake was blithely amused to find that he had such power over the wolf; perhaps a little bit of Foxhound's personality showing up in his twin.
It was rather disturbing, listening to what Daisuke thought had happened. Snake suddenly had conflict of conscience—should he tell his friend what really happened, or let him believe what his mind had fabricated for him? At first he really did consider letting it pass, but he realized that it was changes like that in his iron personality that had cost him the fight in the first place. Out of bitterness he resolved to his old resolves, his reliance on the truth steadfast. "Yes, I know what happened," he said slowly, his gaze unblinking and reptilian, slightly hooded by his bandanna. "I was tired and hurting, so I went to sleep early. I forgot to call you. And then suddenly you were on the doorstep to the Landfill. I tried to get you to leave and you attacked me." As he spoke his expression grew more and more dull until it more resembled a mask than a face. "I defended myself, but I did not want to hurt you. Which is why I'm like this." His tone grew somewhat bitter in the last statement, another glimpse of the far more selfish side of Snake. He was angry that he had compromised himself because of his attachments to someone else—it was exactly what he had wanted to avoid. Sure, that might be a little offensive to the person whose friendship was being talked down on, but Snake didn't see that. He was injured, worthless, and full of loathing for himself and others. He had trouble seeing much else at the moment.