05-22-2018, 02:30 AM
Somewhat was understating their relationship. The right description was a very rocky truce. Smacking hard against concrete had left a sore spot in both his back and his trust, considering the man who shoved him down lied through his teeth since childhood. Death had become a startling reality in the years leading up to his own end, as former co-workers and dare he say friends dropped like flies thanks to one loony director, but he didn't ever picture such an abrupt way to go.
While he couldn't hold grudges forever, he was determined to make this particular one last a long, long time. Because of whatever... disease Tim carried, his life was completely ruined, and now he was stuck in the body of a mutt or a scruffy wolf or whatever he was. To add salt in the wound, he woke up from a comatose state with the same mustard yellow hoodie wrapped around his gangly form, dark gloves obscuring his front paws, and the same ebony fabric-mask painted with a crimson frown tucked inside his jacket. The man couldn't even get himself a fresh start with a lucky reincarnation. He had been assumedly a coyote for days now, right? Weeks? He didn't know; his head pounded with lingering sickness and he spent most of his time scrounging for food or avoiding becoming roadkill.
Then he appeared out of the blue -- and for a heartbeat, Brian was almost excited to see his old friend through the midst of confusion and snow. Almost. If only he had lost his memories along with his body. It would have been stupid to let his anger get the best of him and smash Tim's sideburns in right then and there, considering both of them were in a strange place with only each other for help. Somehow an allegiance was settled -- which included Brian forcefully giving Tim back a plain mask, that was promptly stuffed away out of sight -- and here they were. Trudging through sleet in tense silence. Until the shorter canine had to open his trap and complain about directions, even after Brian pointed him to a shortcut. Soon enough it felt like they were stalking around in circles, an experience he didn't want to repeat again after his own house was turned into a labyrinthine wormhole of teleporting around and dead ends doubling on themselves. "You got us lost again, Tim," the hooded coyote grumbled, silent pace never breaking lengthy stride despite the narrowed glint of concern in hazel eyes.
It was his fault, everything was his fault, he lied about everything -- Brian's blood came to a near boiling point as he failed to tune out Tim's shrill whining, loosing his aloof composure to snap back, "I've used that shortcut before; I've been here longer than you! Not to mention, I was always the one dragging you out of trouble every time you got lost out in Rosswood!" Pale fangs clenched together in a snarl, having finally reached the breaking point of his muted patience. "And the one who kept getting your memory back each time you lost it, and the one trying to warn you every time that bastard tried to kill you. But you can't even remember, can you?" he asked in a dangerously cold tone, light footfalls slowing as he distanced himself from the other. The lanky coyote didn't flinch as Tim whipped back around to answer, steely gaze frowning down at him. It was only the last phrase that roused a reaction from Brian, his youthful features instantly contorting into an expression of sheer hatred before he lurched forward to tackle Tim to the snow, using his gloved paws to slam his head against the mushed ice and pin him down. Funny, he could recall a time where he assisted Tim in tackling their shared enemy, baiting the third party on until his partner could ambush from the shadows. And now the pair were wrestling in the permafrost as if they never worked together in their lives.
[align=center]⨂While he couldn't hold grudges forever, he was determined to make this particular one last a long, long time. Because of whatever... disease Tim carried, his life was completely ruined, and now he was stuck in the body of a mutt or a scruffy wolf or whatever he was. To add salt in the wound, he woke up from a comatose state with the same mustard yellow hoodie wrapped around his gangly form, dark gloves obscuring his front paws, and the same ebony fabric-mask painted with a crimson frown tucked inside his jacket. The man couldn't even get himself a fresh start with a lucky reincarnation. He had been assumedly a coyote for days now, right? Weeks? He didn't know; his head pounded with lingering sickness and he spent most of his time scrounging for food or avoiding becoming roadkill.
Then he appeared out of the blue -- and for a heartbeat, Brian was almost excited to see his old friend through the midst of confusion and snow. Almost. If only he had lost his memories along with his body. It would have been stupid to let his anger get the best of him and smash Tim's sideburns in right then and there, considering both of them were in a strange place with only each other for help. Somehow an allegiance was settled -- which included Brian forcefully giving Tim back a plain mask, that was promptly stuffed away out of sight -- and here they were. Trudging through sleet in tense silence. Until the shorter canine had to open his trap and complain about directions, even after Brian pointed him to a shortcut. Soon enough it felt like they were stalking around in circles, an experience he didn't want to repeat again after his own house was turned into a labyrinthine wormhole of teleporting around and dead ends doubling on themselves. "You got us lost again, Tim," the hooded coyote grumbled, silent pace never breaking lengthy stride despite the narrowed glint of concern in hazel eyes.
It was his fault, everything was his fault, he lied about everything -- Brian's blood came to a near boiling point as he failed to tune out Tim's shrill whining, loosing his aloof composure to snap back, "I've used that shortcut before; I've been here longer than you! Not to mention, I was always the one dragging you out of trouble every time you got lost out in Rosswood!" Pale fangs clenched together in a snarl, having finally reached the breaking point of his muted patience. "And the one who kept getting your memory back each time you lost it, and the one trying to warn you every time that bastard tried to kill you. But you can't even remember, can you?" he asked in a dangerously cold tone, light footfalls slowing as he distanced himself from the other. The lanky coyote didn't flinch as Tim whipped back around to answer, steely gaze frowning down at him. It was only the last phrase that roused a reaction from Brian, his youthful features instantly contorting into an expression of sheer hatred before he lurched forward to tackle Tim to the snow, using his gloved paws to slam his head against the mushed ice and pin him down. Funny, he could recall a time where he assisted Tim in tackling their shared enemy, baiting the third party on until his partner could ambush from the shadows. And now the pair were wrestling in the permafrost as if they never worked together in their lives.