this guns for hire
#21
DaVinci's overly large ears swirved to catch the words Jefferson asked as he stared down towards the water. His mood was growing quite reserved as he sat there in silence, wondering if he should be the one to burst the bubble on how great his mother was. After a moment he said quietly. "She tried to kill me." his strange stormy orbs turned back to the male as he spoke. There was no more laughter and tease in his voice, just the serious darkness that was his life. He shook his coat out once before lifting to his feet and turning away from the lake.

"I didn't make her choose anything, she chose her own path." he snapped. He knew that time and life had changed her, but he was still prickly about the truth deep down. When you're forced to realize so young that your own mother finds nothing but grief in gazing into your eyes.. it changes your world, none for the good either. DaVinci turned towards the male again as he asked. "Maybe one day I'll have reason.." he said. He knew now though that he didn't want to settle down and be a haunting in the woman's face or even know that look in her eyes. He knew it hurt her to be reminded, but it hurt him to. He was annoyed that he had let the stupid words of this male get to him now but there was nothing he could do about that. He growled softly, "We'll swim later.." he said, the words a threat and promise.
#22
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This seems like a good place to end and a good place to start another one, maybe in a couple weeks? We could predate it or just do one later on. ^^ wc300


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The scowl on Jefferson's face went unchanged, but the shape and distinction of his eye pointed at the silver-furred rogue was nothing less than concerned. DaVinci's voice had dropped to something more earthy, more realistic than before--words from his core, it seemed. Jefferson understood such language. He had killed before. He had heard pleas for sparing lives, and final words. Final words about their lives, their families. How they were loved, or how they never belonged. He'd seen victims with clouded, suddenly unseeing eyes look at him with such rage and anger. How dare you kill me, one had said, miscreant. He'd been bleeding at the time; it was days after the bear attack. His eye was lost. His leg was destroyed. They'd wanted to be killed by someone with pride. They'd never accomplished anything in their lives, they said, and they wanted to die a heroic death someday. None of her words had reached his ears; his head was spinning from pain and the mindless madness that had commonly overtaken him at the time of battle.


She died, and he had laughed.


"People change," he said almost dismissively, eye turning to gaze elsewhere. There was no place for anyone anymore; not a single creature in the world completely belonged where they were. The feeling was so universally... sad. "People change, people die, people move on." Jefferson turned, beginning to step away. "I don't know who the hell my mother is other than her name. Be grateful for yours." He regretted the words, and instead turned again and looked at him and motioned for him to follow. "Enough of this sap talk. I'm hungry and you're some kind of guest for now; might as well eat." With that, the hybrid stepped on. The case was closed. What was done, was done.


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