11-29-2009, 07:48 PM
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He had seen the Mansion from afar several times, but he had been too busy otherwise to go check it out. But nowadays Snake’s den—which happened to be in the hollowed-out remains of an ancient car in the Landfill—was holding up well to the cold and to the rain, and he didn’t have to work on it maintenance nearly as much anymore. He had visited the far north and the Caves and the Beach and so now he found himself wandering in the forests. He remembered his meeting with Gabriel here, as well. He wasn’t sure what he thought about the leader. He thought him very odd, first off. Informal was the word. Snake hadn’t been under a leader since his imprisonment at New Haven, and to compare and contrast Gabriel and Patriot was like comparing night and day. If you didn’t bow your head to Patriot, he’d have your hand cut off. Gabriel had urged Snake to relax in his presence. Weird.
Oddly enough, when Snake came to the mansion, he did not go inside. He hated living within buildings, and he hated living underground. He had been imprisoned in the basement of a crumbling skyscraper in New Haven, which had made him somewhat claustrophobic. There had also been one night when he had felt he earth quake—not from seismic activity, though, but because one of the taller skyscrapers had finally collapsed onto the streets. Seventeen wolves had been killed.
So, in short, Snake was distrustful of human architecture, and even though the D’Neville Manse looked to be in good condition he wouldn’t dare go inside at the moment. So he skirted it, eventually finding himself in the wild growth of the gardens. Ivies and thorns and bushes and even some lingering flowers suddenly surrounded him, and he grew wary of the snarl of vegetation. He tried to turn around and backtrack, but soon found himself lost within the leafy labyrinth. Great, he thought cynically, walking forward calmly and trying to find the way out.
He had seen the Mansion from afar several times, but he had been too busy otherwise to go check it out. But nowadays Snake’s den—which happened to be in the hollowed-out remains of an ancient car in the Landfill—was holding up well to the cold and to the rain, and he didn’t have to work on it maintenance nearly as much anymore. He had visited the far north and the Caves and the Beach and so now he found himself wandering in the forests. He remembered his meeting with Gabriel here, as well. He wasn’t sure what he thought about the leader. He thought him very odd, first off. Informal was the word. Snake hadn’t been under a leader since his imprisonment at New Haven, and to compare and contrast Gabriel and Patriot was like comparing night and day. If you didn’t bow your head to Patriot, he’d have your hand cut off. Gabriel had urged Snake to relax in his presence. Weird.
Oddly enough, when Snake came to the mansion, he did not go inside. He hated living within buildings, and he hated living underground. He had been imprisoned in the basement of a crumbling skyscraper in New Haven, which had made him somewhat claustrophobic. There had also been one night when he had felt he earth quake—not from seismic activity, though, but because one of the taller skyscrapers had finally collapsed onto the streets. Seventeen wolves had been killed.
So, in short, Snake was distrustful of human architecture, and even though the D’Neville Manse looked to be in good condition he wouldn’t dare go inside at the moment. So he skirted it, eventually finding himself in the wild growth of the gardens. Ivies and thorns and bushes and even some lingering flowers suddenly surrounded him, and he grew wary of the snarl of vegetation. He tried to turn around and backtrack, but soon found himself lost within the leafy labyrinth. Great, he thought cynically, walking forward calmly and trying to find the way out.
table credit goes to jacoby
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