Getting back into shape (Anatra)
May 21, 2014 18:04:40 GMT -5
Post by Anatra on May 21, 2014 18:04:40 GMT -5
Tyren Orca"No, he didn't hand me a nice letter explaining why the heck he decided to clonk me in the head." It just isn't something that Mark would do. I feel as though perhaps he may be lying. He has to be, surely. Mark had always been such a good friend to me... But then, so is Matthew. And where is Mark right now? Not by my side. If Mark wanted to dig deep, he'd be right here, right now... "How hard did you hit him...? Was he alright?" I have to ask. I know I should be concerned more-so on Matthew now, but Mark is my cousin, and Matthew can at least still talk. I feel a little racing in my heart, just a slight. It's that little bit of adrenaline that kicks in, mostly during times where you are needed to save somebody. Like if somebody falls over on the street, and suddenly you're rushed in to help by your conscious. It's the same concept.
"Your cousin knew I couldn't fight because I showed him the scar on my chest. He had heard the story from your mother, I think." That just makes it so much harder to believe that Mark would do anything like this. He's a critical thinker, somebody who takes fighting seriously. He doesn't do it in a gym, he does it in an arena. He likes to put on a good show in front of people, sure. But that's only in the underground fights. I can't help but have the tick in my head telling me that Matthew is lying, but in the end it doesn't matter. I don't need to care whether he's lying or not, because he's hurt, and he's came to me whilst Mark hasn't. That means I know who's side I'm on, for now.
He moves onto whatever happened whilst we were camping. That first night, I genuinely can't think of what actually happened. Max asked me the day after, "Any regrets?" And I simply answered, 'not that I know of' because I was under the impression that I hadn't done anything questionable. Had I? "C'mon, stop playing dumb. Everybody there saw it." Saw what...? Confusion continues to rush through me, the edges of my fingertips filling with a nervousness that I fill my pockets with now that I put my hands in them. "I just want to know whether we're ....still friends, you know." What on earth did I do? Did I hit him or something? I raise a brow at him, as though I don't know anything. And it's true. "I don't want it to get between us, brother, but I'm afraid friendship it's all I want."
"What?" I simply omit straight from my mind. "Tell me what happened..."