it's verbatim and it's shakin'

@Daighre ^^

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Ugh, this weather sucked. This environment sucked. Hawkes briefly wondered where Abaddon was, and if he was just as soaking wet and miserable as Hawkes, himself. Maybe he was just asleep somewhere, but Hawkes doubted that he'd run off too far. The two of them always tended to bump into each other sooner or later, after all.

Lightning crackled across the sky, and the sheets of rain plastered Hawkes' fur to his skin. It was disgusting - nothing like the storms on the beach. He had mud creeping up his legs, his paws sliding on the muck beneath. Not for the first time, he wished it was sand instead. Sand wouldn't do this to him.

The land beneath his feet transitioned from mud to rocks, and some boulders loomed in the distance. Those would probably offer some shelter, if he was lucky.

Hawkes hurried up to one of the nearby boulders, fitting himself beneath it. It was roomier than he thought - perhaps big enough for two, if they squeezed in well enough. Not that he had to worry about that right now, though.
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Overhead, the sky howled and scream.

Pouring, with heavy, plastering sheets of rain. A backdrop of lightning flashing, often and constant—unending—and thunder crackling, rumbling, roaring.

Dirt turning to mud underfoot; blackening his paws, his stomach.

And—

“Move out of the way, shit-for-brains.” He growled. Grouched.

Poking, prodding, and shoving his way into the space. Broad shoulders and a broad chest. Room for two and sharing, his fucking ass.

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Well, he’d thought he wouldn’t have to deal with anyone else for the night. It seemed that this was hell, after all.

And not only were they big and broad, they were rude as hell.

Hawkes curled his lip, less in warning and more in disgust, and shot the other man a glare. Move out of the way? Who did this kid think he was?

”Uh, yeah, I think the fuck not, asshole,” he announced, unwilling to relinquish his rightfully-claimed spot. ”I was here first.” However, he did find himself wedged further back, squished in by a bigger body. Who was also kinda warm.

If this guy didn’t pick too much of a fight, the heat was pretty nice. Or, as nice as it could be, when you didn’t like being touched.

”You make it a habit of walkin’ around like you own the place, or is this new for ya?” he grouched, but made no move to lift his head off his paws. God, this was some miserable weather.
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‘I was here first.’

He sneered. Lip raised and twitching and his chin jutting in defiance. A growl rumbling low in his throat.

A warning—

But distracted.

More focused on finding space, finding room, to be comfortable.

Kicking.

Squirming.

Twisting.

And—

“Fuck off.” He growled.

He didn’t act like he fucking owned the place.

He owned fuck all and nothing.

Just like his hag of a fucking mother wanted.

He focused on getting comfortable.

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This guy was wallowing him. Hawkes narrowed sharp eyes at the other boy, ears flicking in annoyance. A foot shoved into his ribs and he closed his eyes, trying to be patient, until the guy pushed him again. 

"Lay the fuck down and stop shoving me or I will rip off the paw you've got jammed in my ribs, throw it out into the rain, and make you go get it yourself," he hissed, ears pressed back and eyes narrowed. "This storm is shitty, this situation is shitty, but neither of us are too keen on going out there. So I'd suggest we be pleasant to each other, or this isn't gonna end well for me or for you." He really didn't wanna fight this guy, but goddamn it, he had to stop squirming around. 

And Hawkes was trying to be nice.
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He threw a tantrum like the fucking little bitch he already knew he was, and—

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do.” He huffed.

More of an under-the-breath grumble that anything else as he did, in fact, remove the aforementioned offending paw from his rib cage, placing it under his chin as he begrudgingly settled. His back legs splayed to the side beneath him. Ears pressed grumpily back against his head.

He had barely fucking touched him.

Fuck, he wouldn’t even have called it a fucking kick.

It wasn't even a fucking nudge.

And yet, there they were.

Fucking whelp.

He huffed, again.

Wiggled.

Blowing air out of his mouth.

Staring at earthen, rock-born walls and twisting, prodding roots.

And—

“Stay on your fucking side, shit-for-brains.” He grouched.

Squirming on the spot towards the wall as if there was actually any fucking room for him to go, and settling, his paw over his muzzle.

He wasn’t there to fucking cuddle.



He had enough of people watching him fucking sleep.

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Hawkes huffed out a heavy breath through his nose and rolled his eyes, but was relieved not to be touched by the guy. He wasn't completely antisocial, but he despised being touched - especially by strangers. Made his skin crawl beneath his fur. 

"Thanks," he muttered, turning his head to the side. He wasn't much in the mood to watch the guy sleep, either, but he did keep his head angled just so he could catch movement if the stranger were to decide he wanted a fight. 

Fighting the urge to comment that it was all his fucking side, thank you very much, Hawkes merely sighed again. 

God, this guy was irritating. 

"Ya got a name?" he asked, arching a brow, but didn't spare the boy a glance.
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Sleep did not come.

It didn’t taunt, it didn’t tease. It didn’t lurk. It didn’t poke.

No, it stayed a firm, socially distanced, six feet away, at all times.

He stared at the walls.

At his muddy, muddy paws.

Wiggling, flexing, his toes.

Feeling the dried mud chip and flake.

Moving his paw from over his muzzle to under it then over it again. Uncomfortable. Draping it over the bridge of his nose.

Sighing.

Fighting the urge to wriggle, squirm.

The silence thick enough to cut, to grab.

He thought about leaving and facing the storm alone.

He thought about turning and shoving, kicking, all of his paws into his fucking ribs and dick.

And—

“No.” He huffed, childish, when he spoke. Shuffling more towards the wall and shoving his muzzle into his own fur.

He didn’t have a name.

Not for fucking shit-for-brains.

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Well, at least the guy was pretty quiet. For the most part at least. Lots of irritating sighs and shuffles, but not too bad. 

A soft snort of unamused laughter escaped him and he rolled his eyes a little. "Me neither," he muttered, letting his own eyes fall shut. If the kid wanted to be stubborn about it, then it wasn't like Hawkes was gonna fight him on it. 

He'd just close his eyes, take himself a little nap, and get the hell out of here before the sun came up.
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Tch.

Fucking dumbass.

Didn’t he know everyone had a name?

Fucking, whatever.

He grunted.

Shuffling closer towards the wall, and staying there. His eyes drifting shut.

Lulled to sleep by the sound and roar of thunder and rain. The man’s scent in his nose.

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