12-15-2007, 10:48 PM
Private, set on December 15 at 3:35 pm.[html]All Welcome. Set December 15 at 5:45 am.
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His was a draconian outlook on the world, his mind convinced fully that nothing good could come of his existence. He, however, was not of the mind that this was anything he could change, nor was he of the mind that it would ruin his already angry existence. He wasn't one to believe that things happened in such a way that he should ever be depressed. Andrezej Lykoi's ability to be upset about something, to show emotion in a way that did not encompass rage in some form, was purely impossible; he was born of hatred and was raised by it, for nobody was around any longer to be the example that would set the child on a more reasonable trail. He didn't care for being taught how to be nice and how to love; those things escaped him, and he liked it that way.
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His was a draconian outlook on the world, his mind convinced fully that nothing good could come of his existence. He, however, was not of the mind that this was anything he could change, nor was he of the mind that it would ruin his already angry existence. He wasn't one to believe that things happened in such a way that he should ever be depressed. Andrezej Lykoi's ability to be upset about something, to show emotion in a way that did not encompass rage in some form, was purely impossible; he was born of hatred and was raised by it, for nobody was around any longer to be the example that would set the child on a more reasonable trail. He didn't care for being taught how to be nice and how to love; those things escaped him, and he liked it that way.
Across the beach the boy padded, brow drawn down in thought as it usually was. He was a nasty boy, without thought between how to hate another and how to tolerate them. Andre hated everybody as readily as he hated his wolf loving father, although he would much rather attack a wolf than attack a coyote. Still, the boy didn't care who they were; if they lived and breathed, they were no friends of his. Only those which he could maim and string across the sand were those he even dared look at with affection.
And even then, it was not affection; it was simply amusement that they could not live longer, and sympathy, for those he found and gave such a sly expression were destined to be in pain for a long, long time.