IT WAS A BAD IDEA, to provoke madness. The wind cautioned Ahote to be wary with how swiftly it changed, and he could smell it in the air swirling around him. It was not magic that told the young davke to be careful, but instinct(namely, his mother - although he hated her -) would always warn him like the way the wind did now: Never interrupt a mad man travelling alone in the desert.
Why? Ahote always wondered and it was possible that he was about to find out why. His perch was not yet discovered, but the pebble that skipped off of his hoof gave him away. For such a small little stone it made quite the ruckus. Ahote cringed as it rolled down, down onto the stone and sand with a clattering end. His two-toned eyes glared down after the stranger who reacted at once.
Now Sada said, Get the fuck out of here!
To which Ahote then said, “How about you get the fuck out of here?”
‘Fuck’ what a strange word, and yet he liked the way it tasted when he said the word outloud. Fuck .. it even sounded great just thinking about it. Ahote peered down at Sada with a rather cynical sneer, making himself visible as he stepped around the ledge.
Suddenly, shots were fired.
Flintstones lobbed from Ahote's slingshot crackled and sparked across the stone in front of Sada’s feet. Whether Ahote intended to hit him, scare him, or to simply say ‘hello’ .. it was hard to read in his current disposition. It was harder to read in his tartan red eyes. They did burn like a devil's eyes might burn, both red and blue, both hot and cold. Ahote did not look like he was ready to heed the man's words.
“Who are you talking to? You look like shit, do you know that?” Ahote never knew what the phrase 'to have social grace' even meant. How comfortable he seemed to be with himself too. One could only imagine where a boy like him came from, or what a boy like him even was .. certainly not polite. That was for sure.
@Sada awaaaay we goooo.
