Post by kit on Dec 13, 2005 19:58:15 GMT -6
Okay, before I start, this is kind of a short story I started when I was bored. *blinks* I add onto it when I really have nothing better to do, so I may add more on as time goes by in more posts. So post comments on my comment thread. 
I feel so special -- I HAVE A COMMENT THREAD! Or... I will. o.o
And yeah, this is where Eagle originates. And no, this isn't my best writing. I didn't exactly try too hard to be descriptive. And now that I've bored you all to death, onto my story! o.o
P.S. There's also some violence in this, as a warning beforehand. And swearing. o.o Don't say I didn't warn you.
I feel so special -- I HAVE A COMMENT THREAD! Or... I will. o.oAnd yeah, this is where Eagle originates. And no, this isn't my best writing. I didn't exactly try too hard to be descriptive. And now that I've bored you all to death, onto my story! o.o
P.S. There's also some violence in this, as a warning beforehand. And swearing. o.o Don't say I didn't warn you.
How Does One Belong...
It was just an ordinary night. All of the city dwellers were asleep in bed. Dogs had stopped howling, and raccoons had come out to feast on the remains of human food. All of the lights had been clicked off, but the stars were still difficult to see through clouds. It was a crescent moon. There were puddles all over the ground, and the moon showed in each and every one of them as it was at its peak in the sky. Just an ordinary night.
Bam. The sound of a trash can hitting the ground and then being rolled away disturbed the peace of the night. There was a girl and a boy standing opposite each other in an alley, both pairs of eyes narrow and all muscles tense. There was a cracking sound as the girl rolled her neck, and the boy suddenly flinched.
The girl was tall for her age, having an appeared age of seventeen. She was lean, but it only gave her a more athletic appearance. Her eyes were a shade of hazel, and they bored into the boy's eyes as if she saw right through him. The girl's skin was pale, but not extremely so. Her hair was a deep reddish brown, that was sloppily cut. The longest strand went to just below her eyes, and the shortest went down to her eyebrows. The girl was wearing a loose gray t-shirt with baggy black pants that allowed her to move freely. She smiled dangerously, lowering a hand into her pocket.
The boy flinched slightly, watching her every movement with a determined look in his eye. He was average height, and he had to bend his neck backward a bit to look the girl in the eye, which bothered him. His dark brown eyes glanced away for a minute, before returning the older girl's glare. The boy appeared to be around the age of sixteen. He was skinny, but muscular even so. His skin was slightly tanned from being outside so often. He pushed some of his brown hair away from his eyes. His hair was a bit long, but not incredibly so. It went down to a little above his chin, but that was from him neglecting cutting it. The boy was currently wearing a navy blue t-shirt with gray basketball shorts.
The girl laughed when the boy flinched, her eyes shining a bit from the dim light. Tucking in the sleeves of her shirt a bit, she smirked at the boy as she waited for him to make the first move. She and this boy had been arguing for a while, and finally it had changed into a fight. The boy had set the fight up the day before, setting a day and time to make things simple so they could settle it. The argument had just been about how they each acted, but it thoroughly enraged both of the teenagers. The girl had picked at how the boy was always so touchy and so paranoid, and the boy had bothered her about how she was so distant and independent. She had anxiously awaited the moment she could hurt him for poking fun at her.
The boy couldn't take it any longer. He ran at her, pulling his fist back and then letting it fly forward, aiming to hit the girl's jaw. The girl dodged quickly, but got hit slightly in the chin anyways. She pulled her hand out of her pocket so that she could fully enter the fight. Soaring forward, the girl's leg was in the air and aimed for the boy's knee. But that quickly changed into a giant leap forward, and taken by surprise, she caught the boy fully in the nose with her fist. As the boy stumbled backward, clutching his now bleeding nose, she slammed her foot into his shin, causing him to collapse. In pain, but not out, the boy stood back up.
If only I could just get one hit on her... The boy thought before running at her again. He jumped into the air when she responded by attempting to kick him, and used the advantage of height to slam his fist into her forehead quickly. Stumbling backward a step, the girl snarled at him. The boy knew he finally had the advantage, and he ran at her, slamming his fist into her shoulder. She stumbled backward again, this time into a wall, and she used it to steady her. She slipped a hand into her pocket, glaring coldly at the boy, daring him to attack. He sprang at her, and realized something was amiss a split second before a searing pain caught his side. The boy collapsed onto the ground again, clutching his side and looking back at the girl, who was cleaning off a knife's blade with a part of her shirt. The boy's blood now stained her shirt, as it was once on the knife. He looked in disbelief at the gash on his side. Panting, he stood back up.
"Back for more?" the girl asked, in a husky voice. It sounded like she yelled a lot, as it was slightly hoarse. The boy swallowed, but then nodded, pulling his hand away from the gash on his side. The look on the boy's face was unreadable as he watched her wipe his blood off of her knife.
"Pulling a knife out is a pretty dirty trick in a fist fight," the boy said, his own voice softer than hers, maybe more gentle. But it still had a twang of disgust in it as he looked at the glint of metal in the night. The girl let out a loud laugh.
"Who called a fist fight? I didn't hear ya say fist fight, I heard more of a 'fight me this time tomorrow'," the girl snorted, "Which means ya coulda used whateva ya wanted to." The boy stared at her in disgust before lunging again, this time faking to the right and then kicking from the left. The girl dodged it easily. Knife in hand, the girl waved her arm in front of her. The knife was let go in mid-swing, soaring toward the boy. It caught him in the shoulder, and he doubled over in pain. "You're beat bad, kid." The boy agreed with that, as darkness edged across his vision. The last thing he saw was the ground coming up fast.
The girl looked at the fainted teenager on the ground and snorted slightly. She walked up and pulled her knife out of his shoulder, then pulled a cloth out of her pocket and started cleaning the knife again. "Dumbass," she muttered under her breath. In her opinion, he was stupid for even trying to fight her. This girl would get her way no matter what. Suddenly she lifted her head up from her knife, hearing splashes and plodding noises. Someone was coming.
"What's going on?!" a voice yelled. The voice was calm, but still worried. It was strong too, and unwavering. A boy ran in, eyes blank as he surveyed the scene. He saw a wounded and bleeding boy fainted on the ground, and a slightly injured girl cleaning off a knife. Now what was he to think?
The newcomer appeared to be seventeen to eighteen years old. His skin was fairly light. He was very skinny, and didn't have too much muscle to speak of. His hair was a pitch black, and his eyes hazel. His hair was around the normal length for a boy, the longest point being in the back going down to a little above his chin, and slanting up from there. He wore a white collared shirt with jeans. Nothing very out of the ordinary. He was a little taller than normal height for a boy his age. His hazel eyes had a stern look to them.
The girl looked over at the newcomer blankly. "Whatcha think's goin' on, a tea party?" The new boy looked rather shocked to see this, even though it was a pretty ordinary sight on these streets. "Ya new or somethin'?" The girl asked, blinking at the strange boy. The newcomer twitched.
"No... What'd you do to him?" He hesitated before saying, "Actually I've lived here my whole life. I'm from down the street."
The girl raised an eyebrow at him, ignoring his first question. "Oh yeah? What's your name, then?" The boy paused before saying,
"James." The girl let out a laugh.
"Eh, don't ya go runnin' 'round actin' like you're from these parts, if ya gotta name like THAT," the girl snickered at him, "All of us got a nickname that we go by 'round here. Name's Eagle," Eagle said with pride. Apparently, she was proud of the name she had received. James seemed uncomfortable about how easily she was ignoring the bleeding boy.
"Uh, okay, hello then," James said awkwardly, "We should get him help."
"Pff!" Eagle exclaimed, going back to cleaning her knife, "He'll live. He's been through worse 'n a cut. I made sure of that." Eagle laughed a bit, "You're hopeless, ya know that? 'Round these parts this's somethin' ya see everyday. Ain't no cops to stop us from bloodyin' others up a bit." James looked at the younger teenager on the ground.
"So what's his name?" Eagle looked at the boy on the ground.
"Oh, him? His name's Scratch. Gave him that name m'self. Couldn't get more'n a scratch on me 'fore I kicked his sorry ass," Eagle said, an almost proud look entering her eyes. James looked uneasily at Scratch.
"What ever you're going to say, I'm going to get him some help. He's bleeding pretty badly," James stated simply. Eagle looked at James with an annoyed look.
"Fun ruiner." Apparently Eagle found it more fun to see if they survived the injuries given to them. James gave Eagle a weird look before running out onto the street, looking for a phone to call a doctor or something. It was better than just leaving him there to suffer. Eagle rolled her eyes at James.
He's a fun ruiner. Worse'n rain. He'll prob'ly get annoyin' as time goes on. Eagle thought bitterly, We could call him Rain. ...Naw, sounds kinda girly... What're some other things people call rain? Thunderstorm? Too long. Wait, how 'bout Storm? Yeah, Storm'd be a good name for him.
*****
"WHAT are you going to call me?" his voice said in dismay. James was standing in the same alley from the night before, looking at Eagle with shock. He was in shock from the fact that he was both getting a name, and that it had to be Storm with the strangest reasoning he'd ever heard in his life.
"I believe she said 'Storm', unless you want us to call you Stranger," Scratch said with a hint of humor tinging his voice. He was propped up against the side of the alley, shirtless with bandages in a lot of places. The shirt had been lost to the knife, as it was torn beyond repair. He had a large wrap just below his chest to try and stop the bleeding of the gash from the knife. On his shoulder was a large bandage, larger than the others.
"Yeah, you're Storm now, 'n there ain't nothin' ya can do about it. If ya wanna ask someone 'bout that, go 'n ask Mud or Brown," Eagle said with a smirk, "I gave 'em both those names, too." The newly named Storm looked blankly at Eagle.
"You give a lot of people names, I'd assume."
"'Course I do. Majority of kids 'round here got names from me."
"If you don't mind me intervening," Scratch began, "I need a shirt. It's degrading to be seen with these bandages." Storm looked over at Scratch, fairly confused.
"What do you mean, degrading? You got in a fight... so what?" Storm muttered, just barely audible. Scratch let out a hoarse laugh.
"Oh, it's not the fight. Everyone around here gets in fights," Scratch rolled his eyes, "Isn't that obvious? But it's the fact that I saw someone about it. Or the fact that a doctor saw to me about my injuries. It makes me look weak, you know? As if I was too weak to handle it myself."
"But that's absurd!" Storm exclaimed, "It's perfectly normal to see a doctor if you get injured!"
"S'not 'round here," Eagle snorted, "You can't imagine the amount of people killed 'round here 'cause they didn't go to the doctor."
"But why wouldn't they go?" Storm said, eyes wide.
"Simply 'cause it gives 'em a bad name. To some guys that's all they care 'bout," Eagle said, quite matter-of-factly. "In fact, if Scratch'd been awake, he'd prob'ly have violently opposed to going to the doctor." Scratch nodded.
"I probably would have. Mud'll never let me live this one down. He doesn't get in a lotta fights, but he doesn't go to the doctor even if sick. He's not really a fighter," Scratch said.
"B-But..." Storm began, utterly confused. There was a lot to know about this new place. "Who's Mud, anyways?"
"Mud? You'll know him when you see him. He has pretty dark skin. He likes the outdoors a lot. His eyes are a dark brown, and his hair is a little darker to match. He's kind of short," Scratch described him.
"Oh, um... All right," Storm said. He noted that Scratch and Eagle were avoiding talking to each other. Instead they were kind of talking through him. He saw Eagle draw another knife, pulling out a cloth. Blankly, Storm turned to watch. It was a pretty long knife. Eagle spat on the blade, then rubbed the cloth gently over the metal. "Where'd you get the knives?"
"Hmm? Oh, here 'n there. They ain't too hard to find," Eagle shrugged, "I got well over ten of 'em." Storm looked at her in shock.
"Yeah, and you've used them all on me at one time or another," Scratch spat, twitching. Storm refrained from biting his lip at Scratch's audacity. It was obvious their friendship was on the brink of extinction at the moment.
"You're brave, but right now it's stupidity. You're tryin' to pick a fight while you're on the ground, weak, and I got a knife in each of these pockets. I got four or five pockets. Still wanna go?" Eagle asked, her face looking painfully innocent. Storm looked at her in shock. It appeared she didn't care what became of the younger teenager.
"I can't imagine how many knives you'd carry if you had a backpack," Storm murmured quietly, then spoke up, "If you had enough pockets, do you think you'd carry all your knives around?"
"Aww, naw. They're safer without me carryin' 'em 'round. Dunno what I'd do if someone knocked me out 'n took my knives," Eagle appeared happy that Scratch wasn't talking any longer. Scratch had shut up and was now staring at the sky. He appeared to be rather distant, and Eagle assumed he was in pain from the wounds, which made her grin with glee. Storm looked over at Eagle in shock again, but stopped himself after a moment.
"What are you two planning on doing with your lives?" Storm asked quietly, "Surely you can't live here for the remainder of your life, by stealing and cheating." Eagle gave him an odd look, and Scratch looked over at him blankly.
"Whodaya think ya are, askin' that? I don't care what happens, whatever happens happens," Eagle stated, "What are ya thinkin' of doin' with your life, then? Are ya gonna be a cop?" Eagle started laughing at the proposal, and Scratch couldn't help but snicker. Storm's look was a sheepish one.
"Well, actually, I DO want to be a police officer," Storm said firmly. The laughter stopped. Eagle and Scratch exchanged strange glances, and an awkward silence followed.
"Well, eh, Storm... Ya gotta lot to deal with, if that's what ya gonna do. Cops ain't respected 'round here. Ya'd have a better chance of winnin' jackpot at Vegas."
It was just an ordinary night. All of the city dwellers were asleep in bed. Dogs had stopped howling, and raccoons had come out to feast on the remains of human food. All of the lights had been clicked off, but the stars were still difficult to see through clouds. It was a crescent moon. There were puddles all over the ground, and the moon showed in each and every one of them as it was at its peak in the sky. Just an ordinary night.
Bam. The sound of a trash can hitting the ground and then being rolled away disturbed the peace of the night. There was a girl and a boy standing opposite each other in an alley, both pairs of eyes narrow and all muscles tense. There was a cracking sound as the girl rolled her neck, and the boy suddenly flinched.
The girl was tall for her age, having an appeared age of seventeen. She was lean, but it only gave her a more athletic appearance. Her eyes were a shade of hazel, and they bored into the boy's eyes as if she saw right through him. The girl's skin was pale, but not extremely so. Her hair was a deep reddish brown, that was sloppily cut. The longest strand went to just below her eyes, and the shortest went down to her eyebrows. The girl was wearing a loose gray t-shirt with baggy black pants that allowed her to move freely. She smiled dangerously, lowering a hand into her pocket.
The boy flinched slightly, watching her every movement with a determined look in his eye. He was average height, and he had to bend his neck backward a bit to look the girl in the eye, which bothered him. His dark brown eyes glanced away for a minute, before returning the older girl's glare. The boy appeared to be around the age of sixteen. He was skinny, but muscular even so. His skin was slightly tanned from being outside so often. He pushed some of his brown hair away from his eyes. His hair was a bit long, but not incredibly so. It went down to a little above his chin, but that was from him neglecting cutting it. The boy was currently wearing a navy blue t-shirt with gray basketball shorts.
The girl laughed when the boy flinched, her eyes shining a bit from the dim light. Tucking in the sleeves of her shirt a bit, she smirked at the boy as she waited for him to make the first move. She and this boy had been arguing for a while, and finally it had changed into a fight. The boy had set the fight up the day before, setting a day and time to make things simple so they could settle it. The argument had just been about how they each acted, but it thoroughly enraged both of the teenagers. The girl had picked at how the boy was always so touchy and so paranoid, and the boy had bothered her about how she was so distant and independent. She had anxiously awaited the moment she could hurt him for poking fun at her.
The boy couldn't take it any longer. He ran at her, pulling his fist back and then letting it fly forward, aiming to hit the girl's jaw. The girl dodged quickly, but got hit slightly in the chin anyways. She pulled her hand out of her pocket so that she could fully enter the fight. Soaring forward, the girl's leg was in the air and aimed for the boy's knee. But that quickly changed into a giant leap forward, and taken by surprise, she caught the boy fully in the nose with her fist. As the boy stumbled backward, clutching his now bleeding nose, she slammed her foot into his shin, causing him to collapse. In pain, but not out, the boy stood back up.
If only I could just get one hit on her... The boy thought before running at her again. He jumped into the air when she responded by attempting to kick him, and used the advantage of height to slam his fist into her forehead quickly. Stumbling backward a step, the girl snarled at him. The boy knew he finally had the advantage, and he ran at her, slamming his fist into her shoulder. She stumbled backward again, this time into a wall, and she used it to steady her. She slipped a hand into her pocket, glaring coldly at the boy, daring him to attack. He sprang at her, and realized something was amiss a split second before a searing pain caught his side. The boy collapsed onto the ground again, clutching his side and looking back at the girl, who was cleaning off a knife's blade with a part of her shirt. The boy's blood now stained her shirt, as it was once on the knife. He looked in disbelief at the gash on his side. Panting, he stood back up.
"Back for more?" the girl asked, in a husky voice. It sounded like she yelled a lot, as it was slightly hoarse. The boy swallowed, but then nodded, pulling his hand away from the gash on his side. The look on the boy's face was unreadable as he watched her wipe his blood off of her knife.
"Pulling a knife out is a pretty dirty trick in a fist fight," the boy said, his own voice softer than hers, maybe more gentle. But it still had a twang of disgust in it as he looked at the glint of metal in the night. The girl let out a loud laugh.
"Who called a fist fight? I didn't hear ya say fist fight, I heard more of a 'fight me this time tomorrow'," the girl snorted, "Which means ya coulda used whateva ya wanted to." The boy stared at her in disgust before lunging again, this time faking to the right and then kicking from the left. The girl dodged it easily. Knife in hand, the girl waved her arm in front of her. The knife was let go in mid-swing, soaring toward the boy. It caught him in the shoulder, and he doubled over in pain. "You're beat bad, kid." The boy agreed with that, as darkness edged across his vision. The last thing he saw was the ground coming up fast.
The girl looked at the fainted teenager on the ground and snorted slightly. She walked up and pulled her knife out of his shoulder, then pulled a cloth out of her pocket and started cleaning the knife again. "Dumbass," she muttered under her breath. In her opinion, he was stupid for even trying to fight her. This girl would get her way no matter what. Suddenly she lifted her head up from her knife, hearing splashes and plodding noises. Someone was coming.
"What's going on?!" a voice yelled. The voice was calm, but still worried. It was strong too, and unwavering. A boy ran in, eyes blank as he surveyed the scene. He saw a wounded and bleeding boy fainted on the ground, and a slightly injured girl cleaning off a knife. Now what was he to think?
The newcomer appeared to be seventeen to eighteen years old. His skin was fairly light. He was very skinny, and didn't have too much muscle to speak of. His hair was a pitch black, and his eyes hazel. His hair was around the normal length for a boy, the longest point being in the back going down to a little above his chin, and slanting up from there. He wore a white collared shirt with jeans. Nothing very out of the ordinary. He was a little taller than normal height for a boy his age. His hazel eyes had a stern look to them.
The girl looked over at the newcomer blankly. "Whatcha think's goin' on, a tea party?" The new boy looked rather shocked to see this, even though it was a pretty ordinary sight on these streets. "Ya new or somethin'?" The girl asked, blinking at the strange boy. The newcomer twitched.
"No... What'd you do to him?" He hesitated before saying, "Actually I've lived here my whole life. I'm from down the street."
The girl raised an eyebrow at him, ignoring his first question. "Oh yeah? What's your name, then?" The boy paused before saying,
"James." The girl let out a laugh.
"Eh, don't ya go runnin' 'round actin' like you're from these parts, if ya gotta name like THAT," the girl snickered at him, "All of us got a nickname that we go by 'round here. Name's Eagle," Eagle said with pride. Apparently, she was proud of the name she had received. James seemed uncomfortable about how easily she was ignoring the bleeding boy.
"Uh, okay, hello then," James said awkwardly, "We should get him help."
"Pff!" Eagle exclaimed, going back to cleaning her knife, "He'll live. He's been through worse 'n a cut. I made sure of that." Eagle laughed a bit, "You're hopeless, ya know that? 'Round these parts this's somethin' ya see everyday. Ain't no cops to stop us from bloodyin' others up a bit." James looked at the younger teenager on the ground.
"So what's his name?" Eagle looked at the boy on the ground.
"Oh, him? His name's Scratch. Gave him that name m'self. Couldn't get more'n a scratch on me 'fore I kicked his sorry ass," Eagle said, an almost proud look entering her eyes. James looked uneasily at Scratch.
"What ever you're going to say, I'm going to get him some help. He's bleeding pretty badly," James stated simply. Eagle looked at James with an annoyed look.
"Fun ruiner." Apparently Eagle found it more fun to see if they survived the injuries given to them. James gave Eagle a weird look before running out onto the street, looking for a phone to call a doctor or something. It was better than just leaving him there to suffer. Eagle rolled her eyes at James.
He's a fun ruiner. Worse'n rain. He'll prob'ly get annoyin' as time goes on. Eagle thought bitterly, We could call him Rain. ...Naw, sounds kinda girly... What're some other things people call rain? Thunderstorm? Too long. Wait, how 'bout Storm? Yeah, Storm'd be a good name for him.
*****
"WHAT are you going to call me?" his voice said in dismay. James was standing in the same alley from the night before, looking at Eagle with shock. He was in shock from the fact that he was both getting a name, and that it had to be Storm with the strangest reasoning he'd ever heard in his life.
"I believe she said 'Storm', unless you want us to call you Stranger," Scratch said with a hint of humor tinging his voice. He was propped up against the side of the alley, shirtless with bandages in a lot of places. The shirt had been lost to the knife, as it was torn beyond repair. He had a large wrap just below his chest to try and stop the bleeding of the gash from the knife. On his shoulder was a large bandage, larger than the others.
"Yeah, you're Storm now, 'n there ain't nothin' ya can do about it. If ya wanna ask someone 'bout that, go 'n ask Mud or Brown," Eagle said with a smirk, "I gave 'em both those names, too." The newly named Storm looked blankly at Eagle.
"You give a lot of people names, I'd assume."
"'Course I do. Majority of kids 'round here got names from me."
"If you don't mind me intervening," Scratch began, "I need a shirt. It's degrading to be seen with these bandages." Storm looked over at Scratch, fairly confused.
"What do you mean, degrading? You got in a fight... so what?" Storm muttered, just barely audible. Scratch let out a hoarse laugh.
"Oh, it's not the fight. Everyone around here gets in fights," Scratch rolled his eyes, "Isn't that obvious? But it's the fact that I saw someone about it. Or the fact that a doctor saw to me about my injuries. It makes me look weak, you know? As if I was too weak to handle it myself."
"But that's absurd!" Storm exclaimed, "It's perfectly normal to see a doctor if you get injured!"
"S'not 'round here," Eagle snorted, "You can't imagine the amount of people killed 'round here 'cause they didn't go to the doctor."
"But why wouldn't they go?" Storm said, eyes wide.
"Simply 'cause it gives 'em a bad name. To some guys that's all they care 'bout," Eagle said, quite matter-of-factly. "In fact, if Scratch'd been awake, he'd prob'ly have violently opposed to going to the doctor." Scratch nodded.
"I probably would have. Mud'll never let me live this one down. He doesn't get in a lotta fights, but he doesn't go to the doctor even if sick. He's not really a fighter," Scratch said.
"B-But..." Storm began, utterly confused. There was a lot to know about this new place. "Who's Mud, anyways?"
"Mud? You'll know him when you see him. He has pretty dark skin. He likes the outdoors a lot. His eyes are a dark brown, and his hair is a little darker to match. He's kind of short," Scratch described him.
"Oh, um... All right," Storm said. He noted that Scratch and Eagle were avoiding talking to each other. Instead they were kind of talking through him. He saw Eagle draw another knife, pulling out a cloth. Blankly, Storm turned to watch. It was a pretty long knife. Eagle spat on the blade, then rubbed the cloth gently over the metal. "Where'd you get the knives?"
"Hmm? Oh, here 'n there. They ain't too hard to find," Eagle shrugged, "I got well over ten of 'em." Storm looked at her in shock.
"Yeah, and you've used them all on me at one time or another," Scratch spat, twitching. Storm refrained from biting his lip at Scratch's audacity. It was obvious their friendship was on the brink of extinction at the moment.
"You're brave, but right now it's stupidity. You're tryin' to pick a fight while you're on the ground, weak, and I got a knife in each of these pockets. I got four or five pockets. Still wanna go?" Eagle asked, her face looking painfully innocent. Storm looked at her in shock. It appeared she didn't care what became of the younger teenager.
"I can't imagine how many knives you'd carry if you had a backpack," Storm murmured quietly, then spoke up, "If you had enough pockets, do you think you'd carry all your knives around?"
"Aww, naw. They're safer without me carryin' 'em 'round. Dunno what I'd do if someone knocked me out 'n took my knives," Eagle appeared happy that Scratch wasn't talking any longer. Scratch had shut up and was now staring at the sky. He appeared to be rather distant, and Eagle assumed he was in pain from the wounds, which made her grin with glee. Storm looked over at Eagle in shock again, but stopped himself after a moment.
"What are you two planning on doing with your lives?" Storm asked quietly, "Surely you can't live here for the remainder of your life, by stealing and cheating." Eagle gave him an odd look, and Scratch looked over at him blankly.
"Whodaya think ya are, askin' that? I don't care what happens, whatever happens happens," Eagle stated, "What are ya thinkin' of doin' with your life, then? Are ya gonna be a cop?" Eagle started laughing at the proposal, and Scratch couldn't help but snicker. Storm's look was a sheepish one.
"Well, actually, I DO want to be a police officer," Storm said firmly. The laughter stopped. Eagle and Scratch exchanged strange glances, and an awkward silence followed.
"Well, eh, Storm... Ya gotta lot to deal with, if that's what ya gonna do. Cops ain't respected 'round here. Ya'd have a better chance of winnin' jackpot at Vegas."