PLAY THE DEVIL'S GAME // OPEN

[LAZARUS]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 1.4;letter-spacing:.1px"]He kept telling himself that Gabriel was fine. Perhaps it was because he had yet to experience what others had with him — the bleeding, the fainting. It wasn't that he didn't see the effects anyway, he just knew the hybrid enough to know (hope) that he would survive it. The old man could survive anything the way that a roach could. Was it bad of him to laugh about that now? Someone screwed with him enough to make him half owl, why not a little bit more? Any other day, he might have laughed. Now, the thought leaves him bitter and sick. If there was anything he could have done to shepherd him away from the mess of this place, sweep it under the rug and give him another day of being just on their own, he would have. Spitting up pellets and nipping at his ears, teaching him to read, to be less afraid and angry. The world now feels complicated and cold; the longer the days last, the more certain he becomes that he wants no part of it. Yet he stays. What's the alternative?

Whatever it is, it involves leaving behind somebody that he could never lose. The Cane Corso had kept at least one green eye on the hybrid for a while now, since the body dropped in front of him. And today, maybe because of that, Gabriel was not so lucky to stand before someone's arrival. He trailed a few curious moments after him, head low to shake off the stares he had gotten earlier. The murmurings. His worries fade at the sound of a thump, heavy paws stirring up dirt as he runs. "¡Papá! ¿Qué te ha pasado?" For a moment, Laz can't feel his body as he stands there, but when the ground turns to water underneath his feet, he manages to let it carry him. The dog's cold nose nudges his side, as gentle as he can manage. "¿Estás bien?"