Jaden eyed the still fresh cuts on his palm. The blade wound on his right hand stung a little as he splayed his fingers to examine it. With a grunt of displeasure to dismiss the discomfort, he twisted the cap off of the flask in his gloved left hand. When it sat atop the metal bottle loosely, he took it between his teeth and tipped the container. The contents fell easily into his laceration. The man held his breath this time to avoid cursing or wincing and just flinched. It took a lot of control to resist his urge to close his fist and wring the hard liquor from his flesh.
After a few moments the pain subsided into a gentle burn. He took the metal cap from his lips and let his held breath go, glad to have the coppery taste fade as well. His eyes scanned his injury and watched a few drops of once clear vodka fall from him now bloodied onto the stump he sat on. It wasn’t the first time he had cleaned it but it wouldn’t stop burning just because he had done it before.
For most of the morning Jaden had been hiking along with no real direction in mind. He was coming near the end of the Sugar Woods now. It was easy to tell because the maple trees were becoming few and far between. Besides this loose bearing he had no real idea where he was and that was absolutely fine. He didn’t care. The life of a lone wolf didn’t need dictation. So long as he didn’t stray too close to his former home or too close to any of his seemingly numerous enemies things would stay absolutely peachy. The blackened metal gauntlets he wore would also discourage most passersby from trying to make pleasant conversation. All the time in the world and not a single soul to share it with today, things were perfect for the melancholy Alaskan.
Jaden took a short draw from his flask. It was enough to perk him up a bit. In the past few months he had realized what a comfort the drink could be. For someone who had no interest in it before, he would admit to having made a habit of carrying the stuff as of late. Not to say that he was drunk now, not after his interesting and dangerous encounter the night before. It wasn’t often that he indulged quite so harshly.
The sun reminded the Wanderer of his chore. It had long ago cleared the horizon and now floated toward midday. He wanted to get moving before the warmest part of the day arrived and his newfound caparison over heated him. He recapped the alcohol with his wounded hand gingerly and dropped it into his coat’s inside breast pocket where it originated. Then he popped his neck back and forth before glancing around lazily. It was difficult to decide which direction was most alluring to wander in now.
Jaden does. Jaden speaks. Jaden thinks.
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