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Night had fallen a few hours ago, but Snake could not get to sleep. He had crawled inside the ancient automobile in the Landfill that was his home and closed his eyes, but his mind would not grow still. There were thoughts rushing about in there, though so hazy that he could not pin them down and force them to become clear. Chasing them became too worrisome, so he merely ignored them until they faded into a general buzz in the back of his mind. He exited his den, closing the door and sitting next to the dying fire that he had been tending to. He had no more firewood to feed it; he would have to get more in the morning. With a sigh of which he didn’t know the origin, he stood and began to walk north, and then east. He had no purpose, but he didn’t think he needed one.
He began to walk close to the sound of running water. The night was lit well, as the moon was bright and the stars contributed as much as they could. The rain was holding off for now, but he could see clouds assembling overseas, like a foreboding enemy army. They would storm the coast after a few hours, and the rains would start. He would go back to his den then, to keep dry, but not before that point. This was a place in Inferni that he had avoided until now. Only now was his curiosity piqued.
The Ravine—terrifying in many ways. He could hear the river rushing beneath, flowing towards the vast ocean. The rock walls on the sides were steep and treacherous, though he had no thoughts of climbing them in the dark. No, Snake merely crouched down and sat, several feet away from the yawning expanse. He looked at it blankly, the wind stirring around him. Other than that, it was quiet. The calm before the storm, he imagined.
Minutes passed, and the silence was broken by a fierce crack of lighting from overseas. He directed his dull green gaze northwards, to the ocean once more. The clouds were closer, but not dangerously so. Their bruised facades were ominous, lighting up occasionally as lighting darted between them or to the waves below. Weather always fascinated him, and it always instilled a certain sense of fear in him. Snake feared all things so much greater than himself—storms, outer space, the ocean. They made him feel so insignificant in the open sphere of things.
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ooc-  (Word Count - 300+)
Cassius jumped as another flash of lightning startled him in the middle of his working. He sighed in frustration and slammed a closed fist onto the desk. He had been up for the night, not being able to get a wink of sleep. His purple eyes hung with drowsiness behind his goggles. He flipped his hair and moved his goggles above his eyes. He then pushed himself from the desk and lifted himself out of the chair, gathering his small satchel and taking few provisions, readying himself for a late-night trip. To think of it, he had been spending most of his time indoors, away from his fellow pack mates. Cass had been quite a shut-in recently, and decided to change for the better- sort of.
He stepped outside, where it was only windy and cold. Even though it wasn’t raining now, it would be soon. He sighed, his loose clothes flittering in the wind. The coyote set out, but not very far. He made his way only as far as the Ravine though, which seemed dangerous at this time of year. What with all the rain, mudslides would be quite a common occurrence. Cass didn’t seem to care though, as he carefully walked down to where he could hear some kind of river. Or at least some sort of running water. The brown male was cautious in placing his steps as he approached the edge of the Ravine, he looked down, only to see a long way down. He looked back up, immediately knowing he was not going that way.
As he decided it would be good to turn back, he noticed a silhouette in the darkness, a skinny shape with something flittering near what would be a head. He peered further, but couldn’t see without getting closer. He crept closer, and the figure’s face came in sight. It looked like a coyote, which was a good sight for Cassius. “Hey there,” he sighed, Cajun twinged accent still thick. “I don’t suppose you’re out for a late-night walk as well?”
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Snake was studying the undulations that appeared in the dark curtains of the storm-clouds as flashes of lightning illuminated them, each for moments at a time and then dark once more. They were growing more and more rapid now, flashes that appeared once every few seconds. It would be a vicious storm, though perhaps it would not break over the coast. He could only hope. Rain always made him worry for his makeshift den, as it was prone to leaks sometimes. He thought he had made it virtually waterproof, but, of course, they said the Titanic unsinkable…
The sound of footsteps roused him from his thoughts, and he looked towards where he heard it. Another coyote (though, from the slight rounded nature of his muzzle, Snake guessed that he was a hybrid much like the Inferni leaders) approached, his coloring browner and darker. Snake’s immediate reaction was to bristle—the fur along his shoulders prickled like the quills of the porcupine before he settled back down a moment ago. Why? Well, this stranger resembled Foxhound very much in this dim light. If he hadn’t noticed that this stranger’s eyes were violet instead of olive, as his twin’s were, he would have drawn his knife in order to defend himself.
As it was, he merely stood and regarded the other Inferni member with a dipped head and silence, for the beginning. The stranger greeted him in an accent that Snake, whom had never stepped paw outside of Canada’s borders, had never heard. It was interesting, though. As for his question, Snake merely answered in his robotic and flat fashion, “I suppose. I couldn’t sleep, and I decided to have a look around.” He paused, knowing that the inevitable introductions were coming on, so he decided to take the initiative. “My name is Snake.”
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As Cassius greeted the coyote, he bristled th fur on his neck, which startled the hybrid. Why was this coyote suddenly acting so hostile? In a matter of seconds though, he calmed down, sheathing his knife. Maybe he though that Cass was someone else, someone he felt threatened by. Cassius didn't think he was especially intimidating, but some are just that cautious. Cass was quite relaxed at the moment, not taking the current storm into mind. The coyote then preceeded to respond to the hybrid's comment. Snake certainly was an interesting name, and they way he talked was even more interesting.
"M'name is Cassius Arphralos, or just Cass for short. Nice t'meet ya, Snake." He gave him a smile. "I'm a bit new m'self, so it'd be good if I had a look 'round. You wouldn't mind showing me 'round?" He wasn't sure about how this guy would react, but he hoped it wasn't too bad. He seemed like a nice guy, right?
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The other coyote didn’t seem too fazed by how Snake had almost reacted aggressively—either he didn’t think too much of it or he hadn’t noticed. Either way, the Hastati was glad. He had been calm for far too many months away from New Haven to start getting jumpy at any stranger that might look like Foxhound or Patriot or any of those ghosts from his past. He rose from where he had been sitting near the edge of the ravine, getting mostly on eye-level (well, Snake was shorter than he was, but besides that) with the stranger who just then named himself as Cassius. The sandy-furred coyote nodded, saying in his curt fashion, “And you, Cassius.” Unless forced, he didn’t use shortened versions of names. He was not an impatient canine—he would rather be formal than hasty.
He said that he was new, which Snake did not refute—the scent of Inferni lay lightly upon his fur, and the meandering way he had been wandering also spoke as a testament to his novelty to the lands. When he asked to be shown around, Snake did not refuse. He almost never refused a favor; it wasn’t as if he had anything better to do.
“Sure,” he replied, though his voice never fluctuated from its usual nondescript tone. There was no hostility, no amiability. If there was anything that defined the bandanna-wearing coyote, it was neutrality. “We’ve got the beach, Hades Coast, to the north of here, and some hot springs further north, and the forest is generally to the east, with the mansion in it. Then there’s the landfill to the southwest, and the caves towards the center of the packland… Do you have any place in particular you’d like to see?” Snake wasn’t really a tour guide—he would rather not go frolicking about in places that this Cassius had no interest in. Especially not late at night.
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The other coyote seemed quite nice, a little stuffy and formal, but all around a nice looking guy. Cassius was the last one to want to start trouble, and so decided to would be best if he was on this guy's good side. Snake accepted his offer of being his little tour guide, which made Cassius relieved. He wouldn't want to be out alone. As Snake named off different places in Inferni, one really caught his eye. A landfill, or junkyard of sorts. There were tons where the hybrid used to live and as far as he knows, they all have something useful. "That landfill sounds quite interesting to me. Does it have any useful things in it? I'm sure it could be of use to my inventions." Cassius gave Snake a slight smile, but did not expect to get one back. The sandy male didn't seem particularly excited, or rather he seemed to be constantly serious. It did not bother Cass too much, but it probably would get to him sometime or another. He tried to get some more small talk going. "So, what do you like to do around here? Everyone seems to have their little niche. What's yours?"
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Unfortunately, if Cassius found fault with Snake’s automatic personality, he would simply have to deal with it. This sandy-furred coyote couldn’t alter himself, for it was all he knew. Emotionless for the most part, he ran off of the basest of instincts and rudimentary thought. Yes, he was capable of deep contemplation and sometimes even philosophizing, but he there were natural things that he was not capable of. Joy, sorrow, fury—alien concepts to him. So was love, for the most part. Camaraderie, he got. Friendship was just now starting to click with him. Despite how impassive and mature Snake might ever seem, he was more backwards in his emotions than any infant.
It was strange; no one usually wanted to go to the landfill. Most assumed that it was full of garbage, which was garbage in itself. All the decaying organic material that would have made it stink had long since degraded and without the humans to contribute, it smelled normal now. What was left were the things that didn’t go into the earth—plastics, rubber, metal. It would certainly be a place for what Cassius called his experiments. That made Snake slightly curious, but he did not ask straight away. “Depends on what you think is useful. I think it might, though; it has a little bit of everything.” Snake would know. He was the single resident of the entire landfill, and he liked it that way. It was like living alone inside a department store. Because it seemed that his companion was now interested in that place, he began walking back towards where his den was, though he would probably not lead them there.
The other coyote asked a question, though it confounded Snake a little bit. To tell the truth, he was something of a hermit within his own pack. He lived alone in his den in the middle of an abandoned landfill and rarely spoke to anyone, unless he sought them out. No one visited. He hunted for himself and sustained himself well. But that was it—he kept himself fighting fit for his purpose here. He supposed that was what he would tell Cassius. “I am the clan’s Hastati; a warrior in-training. Mostly I keep to myself, though. I train, and I spar others when I get the chance. I think I was told that I’m going to become a Hydra sooner or later, an official guardian of the leadership.” He paused. He had never really considered being a bodyguard, though it had always been the plan for him with Patriot. His old “mentor” had wanted him to be a set of ears and eyes in the shadows, to keep tabs on potential enemies. He had wanted a spy and an assassin. Now it seemed that the Inferni leadership would get what Patriot had wanted so long ago.
“What about you?” Cassius was largely an enigma to Snake, fueled by curiosities such as why he would want to go spend time in a scrap-heap rather than strange warm waters that were in the north. But some people were like that, he supposed. Why did Snake want to live in a hollowed-out car while everyone else lived in the Mansion or in Caves?
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ooc- You mind if we wrap this up soon? 
[html] Cassius was surprised that Snake was surprised that he was interested in the Dump. Well, he guessed for one, most usually didn't want to have to do anything with a bunch of junk. Second, he was a mechanic and dumps usually had something of use or interest. Snake seemed to agree. He noted that anything you could find as useful could most likely be found there. This was good.
Although it didn't seem to surprise the hybrid, the coyote was a warrior-in-training of sorts. He definitely seemed stoic enough for the job. He was sure Snake would fit the job. Cassius liked his own job, well his unofficial job anyway. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do in the pack. He wasn't much of the warrior or scout kind of type.
"Well," Cassius started, "Down back home I been workin' as a mechanic, engineer, inventor and such. I mainly worked on machinery an' stuff. I started on them gadgets laters, that's what I been doin' in the mansion. workin' on them in m'room." Cass could call himself a shut in, but he liked to say he was very involved in his own work. [/html]
Sure. (: 465
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A decent size of the reason Snake had chosen to live in the landfill of all places was the fact that no one went there—usually. No one really wanted to go wander around and look at the old human junk that was falling apart and decaying, and he liked his solitude. Coyotes were naturally solitary creatures; they rarely grouped up and, to his knowledge, the only reason Inferni was in existence was the threat of the wolves in the area. It was something made out of necessity, not instinct (as it was in a wolf pack). Snake understood that—he had joined Inferni to be safer from the wolves while he lived here, and he had no problem with being a warrior for them if it meant having regular food and a place to sleep every night. He just wouldn’t stand for it if the social aspect of clan life was mandatory. He wasn’t exactly a conversationalist.
It was funny—he wasn’t even asked before he was made into the clan’s Hastati. He hadn’t mentioned that fighting was one of his aptitudes when first meeting with Kaena at the borders. He guessed that the leaders had observed him and his attitude and somehow observed that he had the potential of a warrior. If so, they had keen sight. Snake had been trained practically since birth—Patriot had been grooming him into the perfect “shadow guard”, someone who would keep the leader safe by following him closely. It was almost ironic that Snake was being trained now to become a Hydra, or one of the personal guard of the leadership.
He was decently fascinated at what this coyote could do though—he had never really met anyone who was an engineer, a machinist, by trade. In Snake’s first home, there had been a few that could scavenge from old human things and usually could get them to work (usually by hitting them until they did so). No one had had the aptitude to actually find out how it ticked and get it to work properly.
“Well, I’m sure you’ll be able to find whatever sort of parts you may need in the landfill. You can’t go three paces without stepping on something metal and sharp,” he said, being half-helpful and half-ironic. “But… that’s really something. I’ve never met someone who worked with machines specifically. What sorts of things do you make?”
And yet he knew he would not be able to satiate all his curiosity now. He had been not tired before, but it was beginning to sneak up on him now. His mind was slowing, and his eyelids were beginning to feel leaden. He would have to head back to the shell of an ancient automobile that he called his den sooner or later.
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