At the first sound of the single word Pripyat flicked an ear, almost hurt that so easily his father would release the slate colored boy. It had been what he wanted, what he waited for, and when it came it felt like a betrayal. There was no opportunity for argument however, for soon Pripyat was staring at the back of his father's head and soon enough that too had disappeared. Then there was only the church, it's doors swinging shut and it might as well have been empty for how welcome Pripyat felt inside its walls. Has Geneva been inside it might have been different, but had Geneva been inside Pripyat and Jefferson never would have dared to fight and carry on as they did now. And suddenly, Pripyat did not feel guilty at all.
"Farrrghk!" Almost the shout sounded like a word he often heard his father say, but his own lips refused to form the expletive. Without thinking the boys reached down and grabbed at whatever he could, which was only an already crumbling dirt clod. Quickly and as hard as he could he hurled the chunk of soil at the closed doors of the church, taking a strange satisfaction as the hard clump exploded and turned into only smaller pieces of earth. And after the release his eyes grew big and he felt neither anger nor guilt, but in fear of his father coming back to see what the sounds had been, he turned and ever the dutiful son, fled as his father had bid him.
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