03-09-2009, 04:02 PM
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“My god-uncle and my dad,” he stated proudly. Both were remarkable in those aspects, though Tristan was perhaps more rounded. His father spent nearly all of his time four-legged, and his fighting style reflected this. Despite the wolfish build, though, Gabriel fought very much like a coyote—which he often attributed to his mother, whom Ezekiel knew only through words. If he ever found his famed grandmother (were she not dead all ready) he imagined she would be something remarkable.
Terrible, but remarkable. “I teach you, yeah. Hopefully you won’t have to fight anyone, but it’ll be safer this way.” In his heart, he knew one day she would. The law of the jungle still held sway, and in this place, it was a known fact that violence was just a doorstep away. [/html]