the old switcheroo.

Barrett · 06-08-2011, 07:26 PM

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o hai i write book 4 u.

“Oh,” he said flatly, looking rather deflated and strange when Ezekiel—Zeke—explained the circumstances behind Gabriel and Kaena's retirement. Still a slave to youth's illusion of invincibility and immortality, Barrett found such blatant reminders of life's impermanence awkward and uncomfortable. Death was something inevitable, of course—he experienced it several times a week whenever his stomach demanded sustenance—but when it came to their kind, he preferred to think of it as something very distant and far away. Anselm's description of the Lykoi matriarch painted a picture of a very time-worn individual, so perhaps he couldn't be too surprised... but Gabriel? It was hard to imagine someone the same age as his rambunctious grandfather falling past their prime.

The mocha yearling might have cared to hear more—even if Inferni's affairs didn't concern him directly, Anselm would want to hear about it when he wrote home—but his train of thought was easily derailed by his tawny cousin's query. “Oh yeah,” he muttered, snapping out of his reverie immediately. He would ask if Zeke cared to impart any final tidings on his elders' behalves later after business was wrapped up. The Aquila had been patient and cordial in granting him audience thus far and the wolf didn't want to wear out his welcome; he imagined the blond hybrid had enough on his agenda and unexpected diversions like these could become a nuisance fast.

Barrett shuffled closer to the shifted Luperci, turning his back so Ezekiel could have access to the contents of his bag. “Two bundles, one a lot heavier than the other, should be up top unless they've shifted around a lot,” he explained. There was no way Zeke wouldn't be able to differentiate the neat, formal looking packages bound with hemp twine from his other useless junk. Once removed, the pack would be practically empty and this was hardly an unwelcome thing. The weight caused it to rub against his fur in an obnoxious fashion, exacerbated by its poor fit in his quadruped form—rather than staying seated on his back as intended, it slouched off to one side. Still, the wolf wouldn't be caught dead showing up shifted on claimed territory.

“I think Kaena's is just a note, some photographs, and a pendant,” he explained, absently peering around while the hybrid knelt beside him to retrieve the items. The flutter of a dark feather caught his attention and his gaze turned upward to Ezekiel's quiver. “Huh!” he exclaimed, “it's kinda like that, actually,” he added, gesturing with his nose at the eight-pointed trinket. Not even Anselm understood the true significance of the chaos star—only that it was a recurring familial motif, as a number of Kaena's progeny had it marked on their flesh—and Barrett had no idea where he could have found a pewter necklace in its likeness.

The photographs, yellow and faded despite being taken only recently, were from an old Polaroid instant camera Maserati had scrounged up from some similarly mysterious place. They were the only two pictures the contraption took before crapping out completely. Their content was personal—a depiction of Anselm's grandchildren, he and Alacrity off to the side with the proud parents. Fuzzy as the pictures were, it was possible to see that one of the puppies had Anselm's eyes—the de le Poer eyes. Kaena would be able to refer back to an earlier conversation between her and Anselm to understand their significance; even if he hadn't been there for his children, he was there with his grandchildren, making amends.

Gabriel's gifts were less sentimental, but still thoughtful. A canister of lighter fluid and some flint comprised most of the weight, but a thick novel entitled Firestarter added to the bulk. These were a throwback to a memorable night the cousins shared after Faolin's reappearance. Barrett didn't “get” their implications any more than those behind Kaena's gifts, and he addressed them in the same lacklustre way. “There's a book and some flint for Gabriel.. another letter, and you can probably smell the fuel.” Even sealed away in the tin, he could smell it.

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