art by crypsis
Smoke filled the air between them. The young man wondered if Ezekiel knew what he looked like these days—a savage scar graced his shoulder, and bandages covered his arms. Beyond this, though, his entire mannerism was different. Ezekiel had always been patient and smiling, but now he was short and irritable. There was a gleam in his eyes that was unnerving to the hybrid, and he disliked thinking that the man who led them had somehow faltered. This wasn’t Ezekiel’s doing, but there had been losses. No one had died yet, but…but was always there.
“Yeah,” he said, and shifted uncomfortably on the dirt outside of the cave’s mouth. “No one’s seen anything strange yet. The scouts are working hard—those shooting boxes are making hunting easier.”
It was meaningless talk. Ezekiel nodded, but said nothing further. His impassive behavior was equally foreign, and Max tensed. This motion seemed to finally spark something in his leader—the Aquila’s eyes narrowed, though he continued to smoke as if nothing had happened.
“What’s wrong with you?” Max asked boldly. “You went off on your own and came back beat half to hell and won’t tell anyone why. We need you here.”
#maxpose {
font-family:'georgia', tahoma, geneva, sans-serif;
font-size:12px;
width:95%;
margin:0px auto;
line-height:18px;
}
#maxpose p {
text-indent:50px;
padding:0;
margin:10px 0;
}
#maxpose p.maxImage {
text-align:center;
text-indent:0;
font-size:11px;
font-style:italic;
float:right; margin:5px;
}
#maxpose .txtooc {
text-align:left;
font-size:11px;
font-family:georgia, serif
text-transform:none;
font-style:italic;
line-height:16px;
font-weight:normal; }
#maxpose .txtooc .word { font-weight:bold; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-style:normal;}
#maxpose b { letter-spacing:-.5px; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 12px; }
#maxpose u { text-decoration: underline; }
#maxpose b.npc { letter-spacing:.5px; font-style:italic; font-weight:normal; }
</style>[/html]