@okwahospirit
At first, his eyes trailed over the other like he did everyone else.Civilians lost faces long ago, all melding together into a blur and sea of flesh. At least, until the rare ones caught his attention. Usually from impressing him with extraordinary bravery (for a civilian), or wit that not often came across his path. The Commander appreciated all the little surprises. For his life had become an increase of war, blood, and pain.
This one dressed like the history books depicted his ancestors. Groups of nomads that hunted for food, used every bit of their resources and didn’t over indulge. At least, that was the impression Kanatakòn:ha got from what little he bothered to read. History wasn’t what gave him shelter and a meal in his stomach. Hustling, stealing, and all other walks of gang life did. Only after enlisting in the military, survival meant instincts and depending on his teammates. For whatever that was worth.
“I didn’t think people seriously dressed that way anymore,” he spoke, genuine curiosity bubbled just under the surface of a nearly snide tone. His default tone of voice, for he was used to dealing with idiots outside of his crew.