01-25-2010, 08:56 PM
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818
sorry for the longer posts?
Strelein himself was not aware of the complex details that surrounded him and his anatomical tidbits. The term genetics itself had little real meaning to him other than something that defined the way his body formed from birth. He had no idea about what was encompassed in the word, nor did he have anyway awareness of something. If there was an exact science behind how he and his family were formed from their parents and their parents parents and onwards, no one had either known or cared to inform the male of its existence and function. There was something to be learned about conception, fetal growth, and the birth itself, but most of that had little impact on the redhead. He knew what his ancestors knew for a long time; conception happened when the woman was in heat and happened to have a male present to 'gift' her his part of the entire deal, pleasurable or not; birth was painful at best, and the risk of death was always there. The most he needed to know about anatomy was what worked well on the body, where the limbs joined and how it affected cloth, and where to cinch a waistline to make it flattering instead of fattening.
Simply nodding along to what the coyote said, the Cour des Miracles male tried not to interrupt with his own ideas. It was rude, for one, and he was beginning to feel dense in comparison with what this other male seemed to know. Perhaps it was just his imagination, but the redhead felt as though there was a more philosophical presence here than was openly shown. So, it was most likely his imagination. Snake made some very valid points that Strelein could not refute with ease. It made sense, oddly enough. "That could very well be, but what if he were accepted by wolves because he was one himself, then why would he feel negatively towards them when he could join them freely?" he asked, trying to give the other an equal intelligent battle. Sure, Strel would probably lose soon since that was not exactly his strong point. He just heralded enough common sense to keep his hide on his back. "Though I think you're probably right. Any one would probably stick to the side they're raise in, if not abused of course."
If the redhead were to learn the reasons behind that impressive facade of a face, he probably would have agreed with the other's choice. But as things were, Strelein had not lived a life being raised as a breathing, thinking, weapon. He had been raised as a child in a pack set on allowing the youth to grow into exemplary members of the society. Perhaps that was the kind of goal that was set before this coyote when he was but a pup at his mother's teat. What kind of life was that? Had the redhead known, he would have sent silent insults towards the leaders of New Haven that allowed such a thing to happen. He did not know of the coyote customs, but they could not be solitary creatures, not being so closely related to dogs and wolves right? How could anyone live like that, devoid of any true loving devotion to someone or something. Sometimes a person needed to have blind affection, if it would only let them feel better about other aspects of their lives. Maybe a warrior would be glad to be rid of emotionally attachments since it made the fight less burdensome on a weary heart aching for that which he would fight. For them, Strel would hesitantly say it would be better to feel nothing, but even then, what kind of life would that be? Devoid of the things that make one alive? But as things were, Strel did not know any of this, and his little mantras would go unspoken.
The redhead gave off a laugh, showing pearly whites in the process. "I'm glad you think so, otherwise I bet you wouldn't hesitate to attack me," he concluded, nonchalantly despite the things that he was saying and their magnitude. Strel did not consider the implications of his words, but he safely assumed that the coyote would not find him suggesting things with negative connotations. He surely was not, knowing that there was nothing to fear him. Snake could not possibly attack him now? Especially when it was so obvious the redhead was far from being a warrior worthy of a challenge. "You are a fighter, aren't you? It's not too hard to see. But, do you enjoy it? Is it something that gives your life meaning, pleasure?" If Strelein was not so absurdly set in being the way he was, he would have been a hippie spouting peace and love, flowers and weed. But he was no hippie. And Snake did not seem like he would ever been one either.
sorry for the longer posts?
Strelein himself was not aware of the complex details that surrounded him and his anatomical tidbits. The term genetics itself had little real meaning to him other than something that defined the way his body formed from birth. He had no idea about what was encompassed in the word, nor did he have anyway awareness of something. If there was an exact science behind how he and his family were formed from their parents and their parents parents and onwards, no one had either known or cared to inform the male of its existence and function. There was something to be learned about conception, fetal growth, and the birth itself, but most of that had little impact on the redhead. He knew what his ancestors knew for a long time; conception happened when the woman was in heat and happened to have a male present to 'gift' her his part of the entire deal, pleasurable or not; birth was painful at best, and the risk of death was always there. The most he needed to know about anatomy was what worked well on the body, where the limbs joined and how it affected cloth, and where to cinch a waistline to make it flattering instead of fattening.
Simply nodding along to what the coyote said, the Cour des Miracles male tried not to interrupt with his own ideas. It was rude, for one, and he was beginning to feel dense in comparison with what this other male seemed to know. Perhaps it was just his imagination, but the redhead felt as though there was a more philosophical presence here than was openly shown. So, it was most likely his imagination. Snake made some very valid points that Strelein could not refute with ease. It made sense, oddly enough. "That could very well be, but what if he were accepted by wolves because he was one himself, then why would he feel negatively towards them when he could join them freely?" he asked, trying to give the other an equal intelligent battle. Sure, Strel would probably lose soon since that was not exactly his strong point. He just heralded enough common sense to keep his hide on his back. "Though I think you're probably right. Any one would probably stick to the side they're raise in, if not abused of course."
If the redhead were to learn the reasons behind that impressive facade of a face, he probably would have agreed with the other's choice. But as things were, Strelein had not lived a life being raised as a breathing, thinking, weapon. He had been raised as a child in a pack set on allowing the youth to grow into exemplary members of the society. Perhaps that was the kind of goal that was set before this coyote when he was but a pup at his mother's teat. What kind of life was that? Had the redhead known, he would have sent silent insults towards the leaders of New Haven that allowed such a thing to happen. He did not know of the coyote customs, but they could not be solitary creatures, not being so closely related to dogs and wolves right? How could anyone live like that, devoid of any true loving devotion to someone or something. Sometimes a person needed to have blind affection, if it would only let them feel better about other aspects of their lives. Maybe a warrior would be glad to be rid of emotionally attachments since it made the fight less burdensome on a weary heart aching for that which he would fight. For them, Strel would hesitantly say it would be better to feel nothing, but even then, what kind of life would that be? Devoid of the things that make one alive? But as things were, Strel did not know any of this, and his little mantras would go unspoken.
The redhead gave off a laugh, showing pearly whites in the process. "I'm glad you think so, otherwise I bet you wouldn't hesitate to attack me," he concluded, nonchalantly despite the things that he was saying and their magnitude. Strel did not consider the implications of his words, but he safely assumed that the coyote would not find him suggesting things with negative connotations. He surely was not, knowing that there was nothing to fear him. Snake could not possibly attack him now? Especially when it was so obvious the redhead was far from being a warrior worthy of a challenge. "You are a fighter, aren't you? It's not too hard to see. But, do you enjoy it? Is it something that gives your life meaning, pleasure?" If Strelein was not so absurdly set in being the way he was, he would have been a hippie spouting peace and love, flowers and weed. But he was no hippie. And Snake did not seem like he would ever been one either.