Duck Lake sweet dreams

The reaction received had, to put it simply, been great. It seemed as if words could be just as troubling as actions, and, for the first time, he understood why his father often chose to speak rather than attack. Not to say that he’d make a habit out of doing so himself, but taking a different route every now and again couldn’t be that bad. Especially now, too, since he’d seen firsthand just how effective his speech could be. It’d been able to do what his actions could not, after all. And though he was still somewhat confused about that, it was slowly starting to settle down nicely within his mind. Should he ever be put into a similar predicament again, he was sure to use his words first, and then his teeth if that option didn’t work.

By the end of his joking, the other appeared to be uncomfortable. Alexander, of course, did not care—not really, anyways. He’d been amused by his antics, which was all that really mattered at the moment. However, he was cast back into a state of surprise when the stranger spoke out against him. It was weird, what he’d said, for the Inuit believed that he’d named a relatively low number. And the last part—oh, how that had thrown him through a loop. Brows knitted together as he peered at the other boy, silently questioning his state of mind. “Really?” was all he’d said at first, right before he’d gone quiet. A moment in which he’d thought over his next words went by, leading to him eventually asking, “Do you not know how to fish? Five really isn’t a lot.” At least, it didn’t seem that way. If one was patient, or even just careful, and used the right method, they could easily catch a decent amount of fish. It was viewed as unusual within his mind that the male thought himself to be incapable.

“The other option isn’t even an option,” Xan had then stated. “It was a joke.” The need to clarify had struck him, and so he’d done exactly that. “Besides, you don’t know me,” he’d added shortly after, disbelief scrawled across his face. Though he’d done the deed with absolute strangers before, that wasn’t to say that he was particularly fond of it; no longer did he want something like that, he wanted something real. Something that wouldn’t lead to him being abandoned. Something that wouldn’t leave him open for another attack.