THE STRANGER | m+g / ask me anything

[j a c k .]

"good question." Jack strolled over with quiet's voice on the cusp of the wind. He felt no stiffness in his joints, though they ached. The winter in his spine on the cust of the decaying horizon. No the jungle didn't feel the taint of fall as freshly as most other places. But it were in the air, the taste of fallen leaves, it was felt in the dirt, when in the humid branches of a spring growth. New life; Fall promised new growth, of renewal. Salem was such a softie- always looking at the brighter sides of things. No - the death came after- didn't it? It was rare for anything to survive a winter. Winter hardened life, it solidified the gentle breeze into feral teeth nipping at any weary person.

His bones ached, but it wasnt truly because of the turn of the seasons, such a thing were trivial- it were common. No it were the creek of power in his bones. It bursts out in an unsteady torrent. It breathed ice and constricted the air in his own lungs: felt a lot like holding his breath. After a while it would become uncomfortable.

Of course, this kind of interrogation wasn't for Jack, and he didn't answer. Only smiled in a way that held the tiny veil of teeth. It wasn't a threat- but the slit flash of fang was not something that should ever be ignored from a hunter. One of bugs turned bloody- savage. hardened not by winter but by desert sands. Kill or be killed. A poise of a gentleman was only so telling- after all.

"Gael, where do you see yourself in five years?" Jack asked- a deflection but- the interest that sparks the small creature's frame is there. Childlike, curious; chilling- intent. Something ancient and ageless stirs in a few of them, Jack's own reflecting in his eyes for a small moment. Wise beyond his appeared age. Something staring back towards the ardent like a dare, a challenge poised in such a careful question. "How about the Pitt?"