10-13-2009, 10:36 PM
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Snake, on the other hand, had plenty of experience with wolves. He had spent his first few months around them, as New Haven’s coyote population was pretty much limited to Nikita and her kids. To look back on the actions of Patriot, his companions, and his ilk was to say that Snake didn’t have a very good picture of wolves. Ruthless, arrogant, and ignorant were—the coyote would have to agree with Hezekiah—very good words to attribute to them. But he knew it wasn’t truthful for all of them; one couldn’t put such a broad label over such a large amount of creatures. He had met several wolves while traveling with his parents who were very nice and helpful… as long as you didn’t cross them first. Of course coyotes were like that as well, so perhaps they weren’t that different after all.
Hezekiah’s misty answer didn’t bother Snake much at all—he had a bad habit of answering in fashions like that as well, so they seemed to be kindred spirits in that regard. One of his large, coyote ears twitched slightly in curiosity, though—dumped here, and he didn’t know the circumstances? Did this other coyote not remember? Snake had heard about amnesiacs, sure, but he didn’t think that they really happened, or happened enough that he’d come in contact with one. It seems as though he was wrong there, though. Regardless, the newcomer didn’t ask because his friend didn’t seem interested himself. And Snake very well couldn’t get information from someone who didn’t know the answer.
The bandanna-wearing boy could anticipate the question coming, so he had an answer half-way prepared when Hezekiah reflected his own queries. It wasn’t one of Snake’s favorite subjects—family was something that did not seem to come naturally to him—but he felt obligated to be open to this perspective friend. “I was traveling with my parents before but… I didn’t feel like I belonged there. I ran away and didn’t know where I was running to, so I eventually started aiming to come here. They lived here once—they led a group called Esper Hollow.” That wasn’t the reason why he had come here, though—Snake himself didn’t know the reason. It was just a place to go. Perhaps it was the place to go where his parents could find him if they wanted, or where their paths would meet eventually anyway.
The reason for his divergence from his parents, however, was something he did understand a little better, but something he didn’t want to look into anyway. His mother had once looked at her twin sons and said to herself that one was full of fire and emotion, but the other had none. Foxhound indeed was full of fire—hate, desire, passion; they all drove him. But that wasn’t nearly as alarming as his younger twin brother, who seemed to feel nothing at all. It was very true. Snake felt emotion sometimes, but it was muted—like being able to barely make out sounds on the other side of a wall. He lived automatically, which did not seem to work well in his parents’ presence. So he had left.
Snake, on the other hand, had plenty of experience with wolves. He had spent his first few months around them, as New Haven’s coyote population was pretty much limited to Nikita and her kids. To look back on the actions of Patriot, his companions, and his ilk was to say that Snake didn’t have a very good picture of wolves. Ruthless, arrogant, and ignorant were—the coyote would have to agree with Hezekiah—very good words to attribute to them. But he knew it wasn’t truthful for all of them; one couldn’t put such a broad label over such a large amount of creatures. He had met several wolves while traveling with his parents who were very nice and helpful… as long as you didn’t cross them first. Of course coyotes were like that as well, so perhaps they weren’t that different after all.
Hezekiah’s misty answer didn’t bother Snake much at all—he had a bad habit of answering in fashions like that as well, so they seemed to be kindred spirits in that regard. One of his large, coyote ears twitched slightly in curiosity, though—dumped here, and he didn’t know the circumstances? Did this other coyote not remember? Snake had heard about amnesiacs, sure, but he didn’t think that they really happened, or happened enough that he’d come in contact with one. It seems as though he was wrong there, though. Regardless, the newcomer didn’t ask because his friend didn’t seem interested himself. And Snake very well couldn’t get information from someone who didn’t know the answer.
The bandanna-wearing boy could anticipate the question coming, so he had an answer half-way prepared when Hezekiah reflected his own queries. It wasn’t one of Snake’s favorite subjects—family was something that did not seem to come naturally to him—but he felt obligated to be open to this perspective friend. “I was traveling with my parents before but… I didn’t feel like I belonged there. I ran away and didn’t know where I was running to, so I eventually started aiming to come here. They lived here once—they led a group called Esper Hollow.” That wasn’t the reason why he had come here, though—Snake himself didn’t know the reason. It was just a place to go. Perhaps it was the place to go where his parents could find him if they wanted, or where their paths would meet eventually anyway.
The reason for his divergence from his parents, however, was something he did understand a little better, but something he didn’t want to look into anyway. His mother had once looked at her twin sons and said to herself that one was full of fire and emotion, but the other had none. Foxhound indeed was full of fire—hate, desire, passion; they all drove him. But that wasn’t nearly as alarming as his younger twin brother, who seemed to feel nothing at all. It was very true. Snake felt emotion sometimes, but it was muted—like being able to barely make out sounds on the other side of a wall. He lived automatically, which did not seem to work well in his parents’ presence. So he had left.
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