Sea Lion Shores The baseball launched to take an eye out

Two emotions popped quickly to Yuda's physical features: curiosity and agitation. Before they quickly burst into spray, and then into nothingness as if they never existed, another two things happened: the dark youth tilted his head in the slightest, and the slightest hint of something that was a mixture of a glare and a narrowing of the brow (on only the left side of his face), but mostly the latter, appeared. Although they were small, and though they fell away quickly, they still showed themselves, which meant that this pissed off Yuda.

Words always presented themselves like a brook tumbling over the pebbles and sand that intercede its path — smooth, gritty, and quick. It was rare that the midnight sky did not strongly contemplate and consider the vocal wisps that left his mouth. This was no exception, though he thought a bit longer this time, for he did not exactly know what to say. He was compelled to respond, which never occurred. Normally, the words that were to be spoken were sat upon for long moments, yet Yuda could not piece together even a direction in which to go with said words.

In short, no one had ever been defiant, demanding, and kind all at once. The words were raw and true, standing in their most honest form.

"I do not know." The boy felt just that — a lost boy unsure of his path. The son of the backside of the moon was just as in the dark as the color of his eyes. Yes, he knew his clan and pack were torn to pieces, but he did not know where to turn. He knew he would never let anyone in. The still growing male knew that. He never would, nor would he touch thought of even doing so. He was cold, he was dark. And this darkness far outshone the blackness of the night sky, and even the opposing end of the crevice in the sky.