Bramble Falls not the same

The stranger had quite clearly picked up on Jethro’s irritation. Thankfully, and also a bit surprisingly, that put an end to his irritating snickering. When the guy moved, it was not forward, to issue or provoke any kind of challenge, but rather away. Just as quickly as he’d come, the stranger exited the water, clambering several steps up onto dry ground. With that sequence of actions, the stranger had seemingly dismissed himself from the ordeal.

And Jethro was more than okay with that. Satisfied that he’d made his point, and content to have the other out of his immediate area, the dark one turned to head back to the cool mist of the falls. He didn’t get the chance to take a step, though, as the stranger issued another snide remark. Had they still been face to face, that probably would’ve been enough to trigger conflict.

Satisfied that the other had chosen to scamper off before making such a comment, though, Jet couldn’t bring himself to feel too bothered by it. Quite to the contrary, the statement prompted a slight chuckle, while he cast a glance back over one shoulder to study the other. ”Pretty much,” Jet admitted, without an ounce of shame. For it was pretty damned obvious to anyone that bothered to look for longer than a few moments, that he’d taken a lot of punishment in a relatively short life.

”But it was never one on one. They always ran, if it was. Cowards.” Like this guy, he thought. Jethro didn’t particularly care to go chasing the guy down, but he wasn’t opposed to a possible verbal spar. He doubted there was anything this provacateur could say or do to cause any kind of real irritation now, short of turning back to start an actual fight. In the event his words sparked something, he didn’t want to leave the water, either. For being in it was a condition the dark one believed advantageous to himself.

Scully peered over his shoulder as those first two words fell from the young man's maw. Curious. Then he continued, and the interest vanished from his darkly-masked face, replaced with a cold meliority. He turned to face the larger wolf fully, chin and tail lifted.

"I doubt that."

His words were spoken clearly, curtly.

"I bet, no matter what the situation, you curled up like a useless little bitch."

Of course he knew that he still spoke from an advantage terrain-wise, but the end goal here wasn't to actually inflict another physical wound on the marred stranger. Scully was adept at knowing when he was outmatched as far as fighting with his teeth. What he wanted to see here was the damage that could be done by his crude, bullying tongue.

fyi i'm on jet's side 100%

(This post was last modified: Dec 27, 2021, 12:27 AM by Scully.)

His commentary was enough to prompt the stranger to turn around, a look of defiance and arrogance manifesting itself there. He doubted that, the coward said. And then he added something else. That.. again, was not entirely inaccurate. Sometimes it had been better just to curl up and take the beatings, rather than try to resist. Usually, resistance had just made it worse.

A derisive snort escaped Jet, but a small amount of amusement remained as he rolled his eyes. ”So what if I did? Still ain’t as cowardly as runnin’ away. Damn sure I’ve dealt with worse than whatever you think you can throw at me, anyway.” Jethro was all but sure this guy wasn’t.. some sort of expertly trained assassin or something, considering he’d had the perfect opportunity to strike, earlier. With that, the dark one opted to take a gamble and move forth a few paces, wondering what response such an action would warrant.

”But if y’wanna find out, c’mon back in, I’ll give ya a free shot. Or will I?” He flashed a wry smirk at that. There was still more than enough space between them for ample time to react - setting aside the fact that water would slow movements, to feel confident enough to close his eyes for a short time after that comment. To say he wanted a fight was an overstatement, but again.. that urge to just shove this guy's face under the water for a while was still there. And then they could see what he had to say after that.

(This post was last modified: Dec 31, 2021, 04:59 AM by Jethro.)

The other wolf did not give. Scully continued to regard him coldly, unsure of what direction he wanted to take now that it was becoming clear that the stranger refused to be an easy victim. Were the soot-covered man clearly physically weaker, the Archer would've simply taken up his offer. As it was, there was nothing to be gained by obliging the challenge, and certainly not where he could be drowned.

He was up against a wall now. He knew it, and he absolutely hated it.

"Gods forbid, you'd have to step away from your preening," he sneered. It was all he had left, for now. Ruffled and steamed up, Scully turned to take his leave, bracing internally for the continued accusations of cowardice sure to follow. They would sting, and were he still at the fresh age of two or even younger, that would have been enough to send him into a brawl blindly. As it was, he retreated to lick his metaphorical wounds elsewhere.

Had he been in the mindset he’d had a few months ago, Jethro wasn’t sure what might’ve happened. He couldn’t deny the enraged part of him that desired conflict, revenge almost, for all of the shit he’d had to deal with in the past. He was at least sure that by now, there would’ve been bloodshed. Maybe even death, for Jet wasn’t sure he’d have stopped unless one or the other of them were completely subdued.

The last few months had brought about change, though. He’d experienced kindness and could recognize that, despite how much of an ass this guy was, that didn’t mean he deserved to face the wrath Jethro felt from deeds he’d had no part in committing.

And, it didn’t seem the guy had anything else. Except for words, and those that brought about more laughter. Preening and good looks were scarcely things he had ever thought or cared for, but he could see how it would be interpreted that way. ”Gotta give ya credit for originality on that one.”  

The stranger was clearly angry, but it didn’t seem like the gamble would be accepted. Another coward, but maybe he was exorcising the same logic Jet had followed so many times before. Injured pride was far better than a physical injury in most circumstances. You could survive the former, but the latter might bring about death. And that, Jet could begrudgingly respect.

Perhaps he and this stranger did have more in common than either of them had thought. ”Take care. Have a nice day,” was all he would offer as the other turned about, without too much in his tone to be taunting, either. If he was right, the man’s thoughts would take care of that for him.

-with this last post, I could maybe see a friendship (or at least respect) here, but one based on that behavior of typically insulting one another?