liqour lungs

a name, it's crossed on the lips of the broad shouldered man who he had watched walk up with little reaction. perhaps the extension of his toes in one paw, nothing noticeable as they hid in the grass that kept him cushioned in his position. idle calculations as his eyes swept over the broad back of the man before him who spoke information and threats that brought his brows high as if in false reaction. apologetic, perhaps, but with no sense of disrespect as his body eventually rose. (his hand dropping the cigarette that had been lit on his walk up, such a waste, but time came for respect even if the way he held his shoulders was little of that.) "the risen empire." repetition, he repeats it as if for confirmation that he had said it right with distant accent that resembled something of the women of his past. he'd like to think he sold it well. "the coast too? the brine in the air confuses creatures all the fucking time." curiosity peaked, he'd finally fully rise and straighten himself well. cut stone, but not the porcelain of the dolls that you see in the movies but of something more disguised and real. bruised and distant, its in his eyes as they fall behind the mans shoulder with a throw of his nose. "cottonmouth behind you, nasty bite they have." act of good faith perhaps, he wasn't one to make declarations of whether or not the man could take a snake in his bare hands because frankly it wasn't any of his business. it wasn't as if it was an instant thread, as it still lingered maybe 15ft off behind them

his eyes draw back, the fold of one ear as he turns to his left, steadying himself on an broad shoulder with bent knees and hair atop his neck that showed an effort to rise. hostility was ruining the world and what was he going to do about it? nothing. "forced to maim." the start of a conversation, his eyes are thrown in an attempt to catch the un-named fox of the creek to pull information. he could only but assume he was going to be walked out, but he would wait until he joined him in a shoulders length. he was carefree but he wasn't stupid, he'd remind his girls that everytime they thought they were going to sneak out into the jungle. "forced by your own moral or are you kept on a chain?" tongue creasing lips, its eager yet careful the way his questions leave his tongue. like trying to balance a swing back to complete and utter stillness after taking a few good pushes.