[ Well, that's too oblique for Vasquez to pick out, though he swears those little huffs are laughter of some kind. He gives the corpse a nudge with his boot in Faraday's direction with a wrinkle in his nose. ]
[ Complainin'? this wide-eyed, innocent look asks, though it's belied by a mischievous glint. Who would be so callous as to be complainin'?
He snickers again as he gets to his feet with the same gracelessness of before, limping over to nose at the deer. He doesn't smell fresh blood, doesn't spot any open wound, but a quick inspection of the head shows the queer angle that signals a broken neck.
Being what he is, Faraday's gotten used to following the wolf's instincts – which includes not being particularly picky about the state of his meals. Part of him admits that there's a certain convenience to it all, to killing an animal and tearing into it, rather than needing to clean and carve out the finest parts, but he would never say as much out loud.
Still, it's telling that there's no hesitation when he rips open the deer's belly with his fangs, or when he starts tearing out its organs. ]
[ Vasquez is far from the position of being put off by the complete mess Faraday makes of the deer. He leaves the wolf to it, going to fetch his hat and giving it a good dusting-off before he sets it back on his head.
As Faraday makes short work of the carcass, Vasquez reaches into his pocket, producing a cigarillo and a match. ]
You ought to jump in the river tonight, you know.
[ He lights his smoke, taking a few short puffs as it starts to burn. ]
[ As he's tearing into the deer, he offers up a quick, unconcerned snort.
He pulls back to cut Vasquez a stony-eyed look, his tongue darting out to lick at the bloody mess on his lips and nose.
I know what I'm doing, muchacho.
... but there's something thoughtful about the pause that comes afterward, like Faraday is giving the suggestion its due consideration. There's good sense in the idea, but Faraday isn't about to admit that, even if he could.
Better not to let Vasquez be smug about it, and Faraday returns to his meal.
Once he's had his fill, he sits back on his hind legs, canted onto his good hip to keep weight off the healing wound. ]
[ Faraday shoots Vasquez an equally unimpressed glare at that remarkable feat of maturity, snorting out a breath. He licks his lips again, getting rid of the worst of the blood, before carefully maneuvering himself up to his feet.
He lets out a low, exasperated groan, as if to ask, Why are you here, again? ]
[ The wolf offers another low rumble, clearly unconvinced by that particular assessment.
... Never mind that he's limping his way over to Vasquez, his hind leg still held up to avoid putting weight on it. It's the principle of the thing, and Faraday never likes being told he can't do something. ]
[ Vasquez gives a little hum, nodding solemnly. The benefit of Faraday being unable to speak is that Vasquez can fill in for what he might have said – "might" being a strong word. ]
Ah, see, I knew you would agree. Probably best you take it easy until the sun comes.
[ Faraday, for all that Vasquez is a horrifying creature, pulled straight from the realm of hellish nightmares, looks unfazed by the threat.
In fact, he mostly looks pleased with himself, and he snickers again – that strange, breathy, hissing noise – as he moves past Vasquez, padding further into the forest. ]
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no subject
Better not be complaining over there.
no subject
He snickers again as he gets to his feet with the same gracelessness of before, limping over to nose at the deer. He doesn't smell fresh blood, doesn't spot any open wound, but a quick inspection of the head shows the queer angle that signals a broken neck.
Being what he is, Faraday's gotten used to following the wolf's instincts – which includes not being particularly picky about the state of his meals. Part of him admits that there's a certain convenience to it all, to killing an animal and tearing into it, rather than needing to clean and carve out the finest parts, but he would never say as much out loud.
Still, it's telling that there's no hesitation when he rips open the deer's belly with his fangs, or when he starts tearing out its organs. ]
no subject
As Faraday makes short work of the carcass, Vasquez reaches into his pocket, producing a cigarillo and a match. ]
You ought to jump in the river tonight, you know.
[ He lights his smoke, taking a few short puffs as it starts to burn. ]
Mm, less you have to wash off in the morning.
no subject
He pulls back to cut Vasquez a stony-eyed look, his tongue darting out to lick at the bloody mess on his lips and nose.
I know what I'm doing, muchacho.
... but there's something thoughtful about the pause that comes afterward, like Faraday is giving the suggestion its due consideration. There's good sense in the idea, but Faraday isn't about to admit that, even if he could.
Better not to let Vasquez be smug about it, and Faraday returns to his meal.
Once he's had his fill, he sits back on his hind legs, canted onto his good hip to keep weight off the healing wound. ]
no subject
Whatever you say.
Or don't, in this case.
Vasquez smokes his way through the cigar, finally smudging out the butt on a tree. He flicks the ashes into the woods. ]
Fat and happy now, hm?
no subject
I will literally bite you, this look says. ]
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Centuries old, and his response is still to huck a small bit of bark in Faraday's direction. ]
Don't start with that look, perrito.
no subject
He lets out a low, exasperated groan, as if to ask, Why are you here, again? ]
no subject
[ Vasquez is obviously convinced that Faraday wouldn't have managed much hunting in his condition. ]
no subject
... Never mind that he's limping his way over to Vasquez, his hind leg still held up to avoid putting weight on it. It's the principle of the thing, and Faraday never likes being told he can't do something. ]
no subject
You want to see if you can catch a rabbit – prove me wrong?
no subject
He just ate his fill of a deer. What's he need to kill a poor rabbit for? ]
no subject
Ah, see, I knew you would agree. Probably best you take it easy until the sun comes.
no subject
Then, Faraday bites at Vasquez's hand – not with any real intention to hurt, but certainly hard enough to make a point. ]
no subject
[ Vasquez yanks his hand away, teethmarks and all, and he glares back at Faraday. ]
I already warned you I'll bite back, perro. Don't push it.
no subject
In fact, he mostly looks pleased with himself, and he snickers again – that strange, breathy, hissing noise – as he moves past Vasquez, padding further into the forest. ]