11-01-2009, 11:11 PM
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The younger coyote’s stare came back just as intense as Snake’s, and it promoted a very small sense of amusement in the elder one. He certainly has the spirit to stick up for himself around these parts, the bandanna-wearing youth thought as the yellow-eyed boy introduced himself. Mason—well, it was a name, and not exactly the most fantastic at that. But who was one named, quite simply, Snake supposed to judge that? The golden-furred coyote nodded, holding back a grin that was threatening to emerge at young Mason’s attempt at imitating Snake’s strangely gruff voice.
Mason continued, demanding the older coyote’s name in his own way. Snake would hate to break it to him, but he didn’t foresee himself losing any staring contests. During his personal battles for dominance between him and his brother, months ago, staring had been incorporated into fighting and arguing and all other sorts of strife. The olive-eyed coyote had become very good at it. So he remained unblinking as he responded, “The name’s Snake.” After a momentary pause, as Snake’s wary eyes bored into those of the youth’s, he continued, “So, Mason, what are you going to do about it?”
Despite the lack of irenic actions and words between the two, Snake could sense that this was all in play, as far as he could tell. He certainly wasn’t feeling threatened by the stare of the Tirones Minor.
The younger coyote’s stare came back just as intense as Snake’s, and it promoted a very small sense of amusement in the elder one. He certainly has the spirit to stick up for himself around these parts, the bandanna-wearing youth thought as the yellow-eyed boy introduced himself. Mason—well, it was a name, and not exactly the most fantastic at that. But who was one named, quite simply, Snake supposed to judge that? The golden-furred coyote nodded, holding back a grin that was threatening to emerge at young Mason’s attempt at imitating Snake’s strangely gruff voice.
Mason continued, demanding the older coyote’s name in his own way. Snake would hate to break it to him, but he didn’t foresee himself losing any staring contests. During his personal battles for dominance between him and his brother, months ago, staring had been incorporated into fighting and arguing and all other sorts of strife. The olive-eyed coyote had become very good at it. So he remained unblinking as he responded, “The name’s Snake.” After a momentary pause, as Snake’s wary eyes bored into those of the youth’s, he continued, “So, Mason, what are you going to do about it?”
Despite the lack of irenic actions and words between the two, Snake could sense that this was all in play, as far as he could tell. He certainly wasn’t feeling threatened by the stare of the Tirones Minor.
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