smart kids with too much to say
#1
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He was still looking for a den of some nature. While the Caves served their purpose for when it was pouring down rain (and Snake’d rather not get pneumonia), he wasn’t all that excited about a permanent home there. Over the months, he’d grown fond of sleeping with the sky above his head instead of stone or cement. Hell, maybe that would continue to change as he kept living in Inferni, but so far he was pretty indecisive.


The young coyote struck out from a temporary den in the Caves this morning (due to a torrential rain that occurred in the evening and throughout the night) and made his way eastwards. He thought he might pass past that barrier of wolf skulls and try to see what else of Bleeding Souls he could see, but his thoughts and path bifurcated before he could get to the border. He had only been here a few days, and he thought it better to explore his own homeland before going to poke around other packs and free territories. So he ventured north.


To his left he could see the ocean glittering in the noontide sun—the storm clouds of last night were gone, replaced by their much more benevolent, fluffy counterparts. While the sky wasn’t as pure blue as it could be (it was still somewhat gray), he attributed that to their proximity to the sea. It always seemed kind of dreary there, he thought.


Eventually he came to the northeastern corner of the territory, a place called Occasus Promontorium, though he wouldn’t really learn that for a while. The plains of Inferni continued, but began to rise and fall into small hills and valleys. The warmth of the sun—despite its autumnal weakness—was enough to make Snake venture up to the slope of one of those knolls and lie down. Facing up towards the sky with his arms crossed behind his head, the young coyote watched the sky and the clouds for a several minutes—his mind as blank as that expanse was—before sliding his bandanna over his eyes and beginning to take a nap.
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#2
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Hiiii

The rain hadn't put a damper on the boy's spirits. Indeed, he was used to the damp climate. He had arrived in Inferni a few months when a storm was well underway. Although he did not like to be sopping wet, a little rain was not enough to discourage him from roaming the territories of Inferni. He was pretty excited when the pitter pattering of rain on the roofs of the caves diminished.


The boy was almost a half year old now. He still had several weeks before he could claim being that old, but he counted off the months of his life in his head. He could hardly remember the faces of his parents. He could not recall if he had had any siblings. He had been separated from his birth parents when he was only a few weeks old. Despite the stormy summer and the trials of the wilderness, he had reached Inferni and Kaena and Gabriel had taken him in.


The boy decided that he wanted to be under the sky. He was starting to feel a little claustrophobic housed within the cave network. The boy trotted outward, taking his time to enjoy his surroundings. The dips and slopes of Occasus called to him, and he loped through the fields, his tongue hanging out of his mouth as he frolicked around. When he mounted a particular hill, he noticed that there was someone new, someone he did not know resting there. He noticed that the man was in his Optime form, a form he could not yet assume due to his youth. He skittered to a halt and stopped and stared at the coyote, someone he could easily identify with because he did not appear to be fully grown yet.

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#3
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Snake entered a light doze, easily facilitated by the easy breeze and the light autumnal sunshine that beamed down on the hilly northern region of Inferni. He probably wouldn’t have noticed the approach or presence of the younger coyote if it weren’t for that breeze—it carried the boy’s somewhat unfamiliar scent to him, and broke right through the feeble dreams that dwelled beneath his eyelids. Immediately awoken (as Snake was a light sleeper to begin with), he stirred slightly; nothing more than the twitch of an ear. Then he reached up, removed his make-shift blindfold from his olive eyes, and looked at who his company was.


It was a kid—a few months younger than Snake was, it seemed. The lanky ‘yote was in his four-legged Lupus form (though Snake wasn’t sure whether it was because he wanted to be, or because he hadn’t discovered shifting yet) and was a light orange-gold color, with yellow eyes to match. He smelled simply of Inferni—far more than Snake did—so he imagined he had been around a good deal longer. Though Snake was not esurient for company, he would not shun it. He gave a grunt and lifted himself onto one elbow, his olive eyes reflecting the kid’s gaze right back to him.


“Got something you wanna say, kid?” the teenager asked roughly, but not altogether nastily. No, he didn’t want to be mean to the younger canine, but Snake was Snake—he was never one to be generally compassionate or feeling about anything. Even curious little kids. “Or are you just gonna keep starin’?” Regardless, Snake kept staring as well. The tough ten-month old wasn’t going to let down, even if the other in his presence was younger than he was. Snake had learned long ago from his filial struggles with Foxhound that everything could be a challenge in disguise, and he continued to treat life that way, even here.


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#4
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The boy was slightly startled as the teen stirred. But the Tirones Minor stood his ground. He was gruff, rough around the edges it seemed. He didn't regard him kindly, but he wasn't being malicious. That hadn't ruffled the youth's fur in the least bit. He had not been expecting hugs and sunshine. Mason didn't bat an eyelash, but he didn't smile either. There was an intensity in the way that the olive-eyed guy looked back at him, and he mimicked that stare.


"I wanna say my name's Mason," the boy said, pitching his voice to sound somewhat like the stranger's. He didn't know if this was so much as challenge, but for some reason he wanted to impress this guy. He seemed tough and self-possessing, two traits which the boy coveted. He wanted others around him to instantly realize that he wasn't a push over too. Maybe there was something to learn from this guy.


His eyes had began to burn a little at this point, but he dared not blink. He didn't want to break the eye-lock they had going one. His golden eyes remained on the olive orbs. "You gonna tell me your name or what?" the boy asked, trying to muster up vocabulary that this guy might use. "I'm gonna keep staring until you stop," the boy clarified, remembering to answer the stranger's other inquiry before waiting for a response from him.



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#5
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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.


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#6
Snake was a strange creature, to be sure. There was something about him, perhaps his attitude or his body language, that instantly caught and kept Mason's attention. Or perhaps it was purely the fact that Snake was the first coyote he had encountered who was closer to his age than anyone else. It didn't matter the reason - Mason found himself riveted. At least this guy was interesting. Mason wouldn't bother trying to figure him out, instead he would just test the waters of this situation.

By the cool attitude he effected, Mason knew that Snake did not feel threatened by his stare. To tell the truth, Mason felt as though he was entangled in a very interesting game, one that he did not want to quit playing. Mason admired many in his clan, and he already felt the stirrings of some respect springing up for this odd character. But he also felt somewhat foolish in front of the adults. He sometimes felt inadequate due to his size and age. But with Snake, none of that awkwardness existed.

Mason's oversized ears perked up slightly when Snake posed a question to him. His wide golden eyes took on a curious light as he considered his options. Keeping his gaze focused on the olive colored orbs of the other male, Mason spoke his mind. He did not feel foolish or as if he was failing. His voice was very serious. "What would you do?"
#7
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Personally, Snake had no issues with the adults of the clan—he felt not the limits of age, and the biases therein. Whether he talked to a pup, as he was to Mason, or to the leader of the clan, he spoke in similar fashion. He was not trying to impress anyone (whether or not that happened was merely a reflection of his base character, not any act), nor was he really trying to build any lasting friendships or comradeships. Snake was a solitary creature, and he always had been. Whether or not that meant he would be that way for the rest of his life was still quite up in the air, but he didn’t have any issues at the moment.


He could imagine that he saw the kid’s thoughts working their way through the circuitry behind those golden eyes, and when he returned the question with another, Snake found himself somewhat fascinated. Most kids—well—they were predictable. They were either annoying, arrogant, bratty, or shy, or any combination. Mason seemed sharp to him, which made the olive-eyed coyote regard him differently. After a moment’s own consideration for his own question, he answered as best as he could interpret, “Usually if you stare someone down, it’s a challenge.” He growled out that final word slightly, his voice—so incongruent to his youthful frame—continued, “The first one to look away is the loser, because it means you’re not as strong as the other. If no one looks away, well, usually it turns into a fight.”


Snake’s eyes grew slightly less steely, however, as he added finally, “I don’t mean this to be a challenge, though, so hopefully it won’t escalate to that.” He would rather this meeting remain quiescent. At the moment, Snake wasn’t really interested in sparring with someone younger than him. He didn’t really feel the need to.

table credit goes to jacoby
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#8
ooc: Posting from a friend's computer, so now pretty table or bolding because I am a little lazy <3.

"Hopefully," Mason speculated. He was quite fascinated by Snake. He did not want to be the first to look away, but he did not want to present himself as a challenger to Snake. He was not necessarily afraid of him, though he knew that he could get his ass handed to him if things were to escalate. He knew that meeting eyes with an adversary wasn't such a good idea to begin with, but to hear it from someone whom he regarded as more worldly and experienced was good.

Mason scrunched his brow together, considering his options. And then, quite deliberately, he blinked his golden colored eyes once. "I did not look away," Mason said. "I blinked." He did not know if that made any difference, but he wanted to state what he had done anyway. He did not want to lower his esteem in this guy's eyes.
#9
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Mason obviously didn’t seem interested in fighting—good both because Snake didn’t want to have to school the kid, in order to maintain his pride, and because this young coyote seemed to have common sense. When he blinked his golden eyes instead of looking away, though, the olive-eyed youth couldn’t help but giving an amused smirk—an emotional response very rare from the usually stoic creature. “Well,” he said, shrugging his strong shoulders. “I’m not really sure what that means in context. So I’m sure we can call it even.” Snake didn’t mind being even with Mason for the time being. He seemed smart, at least in matters such as these, and that would probably mean he’d do well.


The sandy-furred coyote’s gaze wandered, as did his mind—the thought of what might be the provender of tonight one of this thoughts— until he posed the question, “Do you have any family here, Mason?” He wasn’t sure why he was curious. It might have to do that many of the clan that he had met, sans Hezekiah, had family within the group. Snake, also being without nearby family (or so he thought), wondered if this kid had been pack-bred or had ran away from home, or was merely dumped here. He didn’t really think if it might be a sore issue or not. Snake had ran away from home and didn’t care, and that’s what he based it on.

table credit goes to jacoby
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#10
Mason was satisfied with Snake's response. He had hoped that he hadn't messed things up with the staring contest. He had known better than to look someone in the eyes if they were clearly an enemy; however, he did not classify this strange guy that way. Snake was definitely one of the more interesting characters that Mason had happened across. So far, Mason had only really met one other creature outside of Inferni. He usually stuck close to home.

Xeris was the white wolfess that had underimpressed him. By his estimation, she was not worth his attention or time. She had blamed his idol, Kaena, when she had clearly trespassed on Inferni's lands. Snake didn't seem like the kind to make excuses. He didn't really look like he cared about much of anything, in fact. There was a devil-may-care air about him.

"Nah," Mason said. "Parents got lost a long time ago. I've been here for months. Don't even remember what they look like." Mason's tone didn't hint at sorrow. Truth be told, he had never really developed an emotional connection to his parents. He had been too young when they had become separated from him. He did feel the absence of their presence sometimes though.
#11
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Snake wouldn’t have pitied the boy even if he had been sad that he had been estranged from his parents—pity wasn’t really in his range of emotions, which was spectacularly small regardless. He did look at the golden-eyed coyote with interest, though. He showed a remarkable amount of independence for so young. At his age, Snake had still been in New Haven. He would have jumped through hoops if asked, merely because he had been asked—and he had a good sense of self-preservation. But here Mason was, basically living it alone in Inferni. Snake was sure that the clan looked after him, but still. Snake hadn’t struck off truly alone until he had been ten months old.


The gold-hued coyote shrugged his shoulders. “That’s pretty cool, looking out for yourself in these parts. Not many else your age could boast of that,” he said, his voice verging on complimentary. Such mentions were very rare from the green-eyed canid, so anyone who knew him well would be somewhat surprised. “Got any plans for when you grow up? You gonna stay here, or are you maybe gonna go out and see other places?” Snake was still undecided on that topic, but he was happy in Inferni for the moment, so he didn’t have plans.

table credit goes to jacoby
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#12
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Smile

Snake absorbed his answer quickly and Mason was quick to respond to him. "It was all right - some good things, some bad things. Being hungry really sucked," Mason said and shrugged. There had been times when Mason had been afraid, certainly. But he did not care to remember those times. He had a healthy respect for fear, although now he was at the age where he was beginning to enjoy pushing the envelope. He had a healthy dose of survival instincts, but he also wanted to push the limits.


"I like it here," Mason said automatically. He had a strong sense of debt to Inferni, but it did not weigh heavily upon him. He bore it with some pride, certain and confident that one day he would be able to repay the clan in spades. "I might want to go looking for other things someday, but I would come back." He hadn't really thought of leaving the clan, but he knew better than most creatures his age that there was a whole wide world out there. He didn't hear the call of the wild or yearn to feel the road beneath his feet, but maybe one day he'd find something interesting out there, something worth bringing back.


"I'm gonna be Mason the Terrible," Mason said, nodding and adopting a bit of a playfully sinister tone. That was the name that Kaena had coined for him when they had talked weeks ago, and he wanted to live up to that. "What about you?" Mason asked, genuinely curious.


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#13
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Snake nodded—there had definitely been a learning curve for hunting for himself as well. There were even a few days when he had first run away that he thought about going back. His parents always had food, and good food at that—somewhere along their travels they had picked up how to cook. Going from eating meat that was fried in a pan with wine to meat that had been living only two minutes earlier was a pretty rough transition, but there was something in the feral nature of it that Snake appreciated. It didn’t mean, though, that he wouldn’t try to go scavenge some makeshift pans to try and cook something some time.


The immediate response of young Mason made a miniscule smile appear on Snake’s face. He was quite loyal, even at his age. Loyalty for Snake, unfortunately, went only as far as it was beneficial to him. Sometimes he envied those like Mason who could really find themselves attached to one place. Inferni didn’t look any different from the other miles of terrain he had crossed, except that coyotes lived here and it was near where his mom and dad had lived once. Those were pretty much the only reasons he had deigned to stay here in the first place. “Sounds good,” he murmured, scratching his head nonchalantly, though he looked back to the kid when he mentioned his nickname. “Terrible, huh? You’d rather be Terrible over… Magnificent?” When it came to Snake, though, he just shook his head. “Titles and names and things aren’t really my deal. I don’t even have a last name.” Technically, he had three. But his mother had told him not to take hers, and he felt strange taking either Patriot’s or Laurel’s name as his own. So he chose not to have one.

table credit goes to jacoby
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#14
Snake didn't have a last name? That was not something that Mason had ever encountered before. Both Kaena and Gabriel had surnames. Even someone as young as himself had a surname. Mason turned curious yellow eyes upon the olive-eyed male. That didn't make him any less interesting to the boy, but it was still strange. His last name was something that he took for granted, it seemed. He thought that everybody had one. "I got a long name," Mason said. "It is Mason Alexandre Hesiod. But I never really thought about it." Mason shrugged.

He thought about it for a few seconds more. "I think names are important to me," he said finally. "I don't think a name has to be long to be a good one, but I like my name. It lets others know who I am." If someone knew his name, it meant that he had made a connection. It meant that he was more than himself, and that in his life he had reached out to touch something more than himself. Not that he could articulate that - he was too young and his use of language was not that sophisticated.

"And I wanna be the Terrible so enemies of the Clan will know who they are dealing with!" he said, baring his fangs in the parody of a growl. It was a bit of theatrics to be certain, but he was not trying to be a show off. He was merely trying to illustrate his point to Snake.
#15
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Another smile ghosted past Snake. It disappeared very quickly, though. “That is a long name,” he agreed, continuing, “Ironic for such a small creature.” For ‘Mason Alexandre Hesiod’ was more than three times the length of Snake’s paltry name, though it didn’t bother him at all. It was a mouthful, and Snake liked his own succinct introduction. The youth explained the importance of his names to him, and Snake gave a nod of acknowledgement. Sometimes the more extensive names were a little bit of a gallimaufry to him, but he could understand how they made the kid’s identity… at least to the kid. Snake didn’t see how it would personify him. Snake believed one’s actions and beliefs made up who they were, not their names and titles.


The golden-eyed coyote explained his reasoning behind wanting to be ‘the Terrible’, and Snake grew amused with him all the more. He certainly was a tiny terror, wanting to be the scourge of all that existed out of Inferni’s boundaries. The bandanna-wearing boy paused for a moment, wondering about the coyote clan and its relations outside its safe boundaries. He had heard that the surrounding wolf packs were generally malicious and that there was great strife amongst them. He didn’t really like that, but he accepted it. There were lines drawn between wolves and coyotes that were growing more and more tangible to him. He wondered how intense these altercations were, that the youth of the clan were getting their minds involved.


“Oh, well, that makes sense,” Snake responded, though he feared he’d have to play the devil’s advocate for a moment, “But what about the friends of the clan? Wouldn’t you be sending the wrong message if they heard you spoken of as terrible?” He did not find any superior satisfaction in picking at Mason’s thoughts—just to satiate his curiosity. He saw many distinct differences between him and the boy, and they fascinated him. Especially since Mason was the second-closest to his age that he had met in Inferni.


And he continued speaking with the younger coyote until the time of day separated them—Snake departed for his home in the Landfill while the young Mason the Terrible went elsewhere as well. In the end, the older coyote had been impressed with the Inferni youth.

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