wc459
As much as Jefferson wanted to consider himself from 'somewhere', the concept was still a foreign and advanced one; the mindset of a steadfast loner was tough to overcome. Phoenix Valley was, at the time, still only his place of rest, but not yet considered a 'home'. In his mind, the stubborn hybrid was as much a dignified loner as he had been for years before--his entire personality and structure had been shaped around his self-sufficiency and the need for constant exploration and discovery. Settling down in one place, so to say, was probably one of the hardest things he'd ever done. As Jefferson had entered the pack more by mistake than anything, the original plan had been to remain there until his health restored to the point that he could struggle on his own once again, but as time passed and faces came and went constantly, he found the situation changing. He was gaining weight little by little and old senses that had dulled and betrayed him were resurfacing. He was beginning to feel alive for the first time in what felt like eternity and provided the male with an odd, foreign sense of security and acceptance that he had never before witnessed. The pack life he had once scoffed and misunderstood was gradually becoming clearer and more enjoyable, but the loner-at-heart hybrid could not yet set aside his genuine nature. He was still a loner, even if to himself, and whether or not he would end up as such again was unknown. "No," he replied gruffly. "A pack far from here took me in out of pity. They're kind, but you're right: Your--our--kind are misplaced puzzle pieces on their lands."
His eye wandered down, cast on the bony figure beside him. "The leader is kind. I was brought in because of my condition; she might have a place for you as well." Rare was it that Jefferson showed such kindness, especially to a stranger--but the reason seemed to lie beyond the poor soul's wretched body and eyes. A familiarity laid in his scent, in his voice; Jefferson was inevitably intrigued, and if the creature possessed some knowledge to the gimpy male's background, Jeffers was going to hear of it. "Phoenix Valley. Only downside is that one of the leaders will probably have my head for being a crossbreed, but hell with it. The only thing I know about my father was that he was a coy, and I might as well take pride in something." Why was he so suddenly talkative? His glance strayed back to the stranger and thinned--he was never so unusually bold in words, so comfortable in speaking; another chill ran down his spine and he swallowed the discomfort in his stomach. "Jefferson. ...Your name?"
|
