it's hard with such a history

Sirius Revlis · 04-26-2011, 12:25 PM

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Table by Sie
Wordcount:: 5+

There was so much going on behind those bleeding jewels. Siri could sense it, could see it, but it frustrated him endlessly not to know it. The average soul was so easy to read, to find intention within a questioning gaze, within every orchestrated movement. The Hunter could read such things, a scholar to his art, and find reasoning to twist the mind to wills beyond its current comprehension.

But Itachi Lykoi's windows were fogged, and try as he might to persevere, to see past the stained glass, all that could be observed were murky shadows. A book written in a language his scholar's eyes could not read. Had he more patience, the man might have waited, might have played his game a little safer. But time was important, and there was a fire within him that demanded action over such extension. He wanted Itachi Lykoi, but he did not need Itachi Lykoi. The boy's own actions would decide his fate, and Sirius supposed that Itachi had known such a thing all along.

Men of the mind and not of the heart so often did.

The words offered were correct, but the Revlis man knew that his answer had gone much deeper. The game went on, regardless of whether the Lykoi boy knew that the master puppeteer had luminous ivy sights set upon him. "Correct," He spoke in a smooth, genial tone, without condescension. It was not in his interests to alienate the boy by treating him like a simpleton. "But it is more than this word, than this singular meaning," Cream hands with slender fingers reached again for the broken pieces, taking them carefully from the ground near the golden boy. His own eyes gazed, half with fondness and half with frustration, at the disassembled item. "Once it was a snare. Before that, too, it was a sapling tree; Fresh with life before I cut it down. Another time, it lived in the haunch of a doe, and it was strong and supple when she ran," He mused amiably, but there was a dark tone to the voice that sought the black-blooded prince.

He wound the leather strip carefully about his fingers, snapped it tight before slackening again. The sharp sound echoed listlessly in the caverns. "But now such simple things have been twisted by hands to form a snare. A trap that killed the hare you eat, but not its brother, who lives to see another dawn. A faulty design - mine, of course." He smiled with sharp crocodile teeth. Such consistent failure in design irked him. "We are so surrounded by traps, that sometimes we forget them for what they are," A gentle sigh, as though his mind wandered rather than prowled, "But family would keep us from the harm of the hunters snare. Had this hare been attentive to his kin, perhaps your stomach would still be empty."

Words sought purchase on slippery terrain. Acidic eyes lifted now to the youth's face, searching swiftly for reaction. "Tell me, have you family up here in the caves, Itachi?"

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