#chat:effy

[ezra-hemlock]

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“That’s not exactly the best camouflage.” 

[ezra-hemlock]

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“We aren’t done!” This. Fucking. Brat. “You killed my master!” For the last few hours he’s been going at this, and sure, Ezra had killed some masters during the invasion. They were a bunch of fucking scumbags who abused him regularly, or crazed things trying to drain him dry. But the scenario he keeps retelling isn’t one he remembers because his master wasn’t one of his kills. He snarled that to him him, but he won’t listen. During their fifteen minute break from their duty to rebuild the city, which Ezra hasn’t raised a finger for, the boy comes after him.

His darkness has consumed him since the invasion, the Wolf he suppressed at the fore. He is feral, hungry for a fight. A fist connects with his cheek but Ezra doesn’t even lose his footing, turning his face back to the other slave, grinning, his tongue running along his bloodied teeth. Then he repays the favor, his knuckles crashing into the boy’s nose. It breaks. Another hasty punch is thrown his way but he dodges it easily and continues hitting the kid, again and again. “Are we done?” he lowly snarls, advancing to take back every step his punches sends the other back. A hit sends the kid to the ground, a final one rendering him unconscious. “I think we’re done.” 

[ezra-hemlock]

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"It's dangerous to be staring, at a time like this."

[ezra-hemlock]

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"You aren't being very subtle," he lowly murmurs between breaths, palms flat against the ground as he neared the end of his rounds of pushups. He felt the eyes watching his movements even before he heard the footsteps approach.