02-22-2020, 11:35 PM
The general's visage attains a subdued smile as the glass of aqua is set before him. He does not utter a thanking message, nor does he nod in grace. A smile, in his eyes, was enough for a glass of water. In truth, he hadn't cared for what Selby would've filled the cup with, for there were matters more cardinal to be bothered about than a drink. But water may have been the best option out of all of them - its utter simplicity and coherence, in lieu of a strenuous day, calmed him.
Leroy's noggin dips low so that his mouth may reach the drink, and blithely laps away at it as Selby reflects on recent happenings. When the younger Roux draws a remark about 'coming back from the dead', the canine's consumption of H2O abruptly ceases. A knot then develops in his throat, birthed out of a strong dislike pertaining to that specific subject. Grim thoughts began formulating within the shaky confines of his mind. The smile upon his face subsided, and his eyes, which - mere seconds ago - glanced towards the liquid in pleasure, latched onto Selby's in an exceptional stare.
It wasn't the sawbones' fault that he saw his words as fact. About ninety-one percent of Tanglewood's population probably thought the same way - with the remaining nine percent consisting of Crow, Leroy, and Aurum. Hence, it was only natural for his train of thought to mirror theirs. "Ya know," he interjects, breaking the awkward silence that'd formed on his part, "I really ain't alive. Nor will I ever be. Ain't no deathless hound. And I probably won't ever feel whole again neither." His wording isn't harsh, thought it's spoken in a tone that's about as direct as an arrow. "Ya know the story, dont'cha?" he then asks, softening his timbre a tad, "thought'cha woulda been told by me or Crow by now."
Leroy's noggin dips low so that his mouth may reach the drink, and blithely laps away at it as Selby reflects on recent happenings. When the younger Roux draws a remark about 'coming back from the dead', the canine's consumption of H2O abruptly ceases. A knot then develops in his throat, birthed out of a strong dislike pertaining to that specific subject. Grim thoughts began formulating within the shaky confines of his mind. The smile upon his face subsided, and his eyes, which - mere seconds ago - glanced towards the liquid in pleasure, latched onto Selby's in an exceptional stare.
It wasn't the sawbones' fault that he saw his words as fact. About ninety-one percent of Tanglewood's population probably thought the same way - with the remaining nine percent consisting of Crow, Leroy, and Aurum. Hence, it was only natural for his train of thought to mirror theirs. "Ya know," he interjects, breaking the awkward silence that'd formed on his part, "I really ain't alive. Nor will I ever be. Ain't no deathless hound. And I probably won't ever feel whole again neither." His wording isn't harsh, thought it's spoken in a tone that's about as direct as an arrow. "Ya know the story, dont'cha?" he then asks, softening his timbre a tad, "thought'cha woulda been told by me or Crow by now."