No promises to keep

Ahiga Nishant · 07-11-2012, 07:26 PM

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Word Count :: 469 Bratty mc bratters he be <.<

Looking down from his superior position he didn't in the slightest feel as if he had an advantage over the other; he couldn't quite figure it out why this was the case, maybe it was the fact that he had currently not succeeded in getting a rise out of the other, yet. Canines who managed to keep a level head and remain calm made it seem as if getting angry at them was pointless, as infuriating as the fact was the young Nishant could feel initially spark of anger already waning away as the other responded in a too level like manner for the lad, the red heads arms crossing just seemed to resign the boy last. It was like arguing with this mother all over again, knowing that no matter what he said and did he'd loose and come out worse then he did at the start, knowing that he is in the right but unable to prove himself or even get some form of reaction out of whom he was arguing with.

If the red head shouted at him, hit him, threw his emotions around then the lad would feel satisfaction in his harsh words, feel as if he was getting somewhere. But no, in response to his harsh greeting it seemed all he earned in return was logic and a perfectly rational statement back. Wrinkling up his nose in distaste he rolled his eyes, a childish display of his dislike of the situation, although an improvement from screaming in the red heads face as he so desired to do. Dropping his reigns he allowed them to fall lightly onto Buck's neck before he swung his leg over and dismounted, hitting the ground with an audible thud he reached back to the horse and grasped the stallions reigns underneath his head, not that he expected Buck to wonder off, it was more for the familiar reassurance that he found in the horse's presence.

“I sent the note so you wouldn't pester the tribe with further visits looking for me.” it was a perfectly logical thing to do in his opinion, too stubborn to admit quite at the moment to either the red head or himself that perhaps he had wanted Strel to seek him out and come see him again. “And how have I ever been rash” arms folded across his chest in an attempt to mimic the other, baring his tribal covered torso clearly for he only wore a pair of tight, low riding tattered black shorts. “All I said was that I was moving packs, there was nothing there for you to worry about” is voice came out vaguely strained and slightly harsh whilst he attempted to project a more... mature and calm tone to his speech. “So again I ask, what do you want?”

Photo courtesy of Khevyel

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