01-04-2010, 02:40 AM
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It was strange—in the beginning of his life in New Haven, there had been little issue about species. Snake’s parents were coyote, and Patriot was a full-blooded wolf. Snake’s half-brothers were hybrids of the two, and the inhabitants of the decaying city were (from what Snake had seen of them) mostly lupine, though their smaller plains cousins were also amongst them, as well as several creatures who had come from the humans’ domesticated breeds. It was when he escaped that place with his mother and started traveling with his parents that he began to notice that the entire world didn’t share the same nonchalant nature as his birthplace. Snake and his parents had been welcomed by wolves and coyotes and chased away by both, all for different reasons. It was confusing. Sometimes Snake almost wished things could be like New Haven—at least just the relative harmony of the species.
Regardless, there was nothing he could do to make the wolf feel any easier about his stoic attitude. It was literally how Snake was hard-wired—if someone asked, he would just stare, not comprehending. It was almost like going over to a morning person in the morning and asking them shut up and be gloomy like everyone else. At Strelein’s comment of not seeing any coyotes where he was from, Snake merely shrugged. They seemed less wide-spread than the hardier wolves, to say the least. But while he was not especially interested, he did not think negatively on the wolf for adding such a comment. This, like most things about the coyote, was merely a neutral thing for him.
It was strange; though he did not really notice it, Snake was amazingly perceptive. There were calculations and notations buzzing behind in his mind that his consciousness didn’t even notice. Such was when he noticed the redheaded wolf’s hand lowering from where he had been nervously messing with a necklace—obviously Snake had been worrying him, and now he seemed to have calmed down. Well, that was good. Snake didn’t want to give anyone a panic attack. Of course, then the wolf just went to worrying another piece of jewelry. Sometimes he wondered what it would be like to be nervous. He thought it must be terrible. Snake himself wore his necklace—woven twine with a spiral seashell attached, which Daisuke had put on him and he had never taken off—but he never touched it. Hell, he never thought about it.
At the question, Snake answered automatically, “Nothing really. I didn’t feel like spending another day in Inferni, so I decided to go look around. I’d seen the forests already, so… I thought I’d take a look at the eastern ocean.” Considering the sparse answer that Snake could have given Strelein, this was a pretty generous one. The faintest flicker of a smile passed his blond features at the wolf’s other comment. “You’re right, it isn’t. Of course if I hadn’t come this way, I wouldn’t have met another fascinating wolf of the area.” He paused, then asking, “Which pack are you from, by the way?” Snake knew them all by name, but not by scent. He would have to work on that.
It was strange—in the beginning of his life in New Haven, there had been little issue about species. Snake’s parents were coyote, and Patriot was a full-blooded wolf. Snake’s half-brothers were hybrids of the two, and the inhabitants of the decaying city were (from what Snake had seen of them) mostly lupine, though their smaller plains cousins were also amongst them, as well as several creatures who had come from the humans’ domesticated breeds. It was when he escaped that place with his mother and started traveling with his parents that he began to notice that the entire world didn’t share the same nonchalant nature as his birthplace. Snake and his parents had been welcomed by wolves and coyotes and chased away by both, all for different reasons. It was confusing. Sometimes Snake almost wished things could be like New Haven—at least just the relative harmony of the species.
Regardless, there was nothing he could do to make the wolf feel any easier about his stoic attitude. It was literally how Snake was hard-wired—if someone asked, he would just stare, not comprehending. It was almost like going over to a morning person in the morning and asking them shut up and be gloomy like everyone else. At Strelein’s comment of not seeing any coyotes where he was from, Snake merely shrugged. They seemed less wide-spread than the hardier wolves, to say the least. But while he was not especially interested, he did not think negatively on the wolf for adding such a comment. This, like most things about the coyote, was merely a neutral thing for him.
It was strange; though he did not really notice it, Snake was amazingly perceptive. There were calculations and notations buzzing behind in his mind that his consciousness didn’t even notice. Such was when he noticed the redheaded wolf’s hand lowering from where he had been nervously messing with a necklace—obviously Snake had been worrying him, and now he seemed to have calmed down. Well, that was good. Snake didn’t want to give anyone a panic attack. Of course, then the wolf just went to worrying another piece of jewelry. Sometimes he wondered what it would be like to be nervous. He thought it must be terrible. Snake himself wore his necklace—woven twine with a spiral seashell attached, which Daisuke had put on him and he had never taken off—but he never touched it. Hell, he never thought about it.
At the question, Snake answered automatically, “Nothing really. I didn’t feel like spending another day in Inferni, so I decided to go look around. I’d seen the forests already, so… I thought I’d take a look at the eastern ocean.” Considering the sparse answer that Snake could have given Strelein, this was a pretty generous one. The faintest flicker of a smile passed his blond features at the wolf’s other comment. “You’re right, it isn’t. Of course if I hadn’t come this way, I wouldn’t have met another fascinating wolf of the area.” He paused, then asking, “Which pack are you from, by the way?” Snake knew them all by name, but not by scent. He would have to work on that.