| [Jan. 23rd, 2009|01:39 am] |
He looked torn for a long moment between taking it off and putting down his cards. He pinned Genma with a look. "Don't steal them," he growled, spilling the deck out onto the bed. Worn cards cascaded into the folds and creases of bedding.
Kuromaru reached up with one hand, fingers wrapping around cloth, and yanked. "Ow," he said, as blood trickled free from where scabs had stuck to material. He wiped it off with the back of his wrist, flinched, frowned, and did it again. "Now you can't have your water, though." He stared at the streak of red across his wrist as if it were personally offensive. Then he wiped at his head again. More scabs broke. Kuromaru started to wipe at that, caught his empty eyesocket instead, and howled.
"Wolf, Kuro," Tsume breathed from the kitchen, leaning over the tap and very definitely not looking.
"That hurt!" He threw down the hitai-ate and reached up as if to clamp a hand over the injury.
"Well, stop touching it!"
He froze, clawed fingers an inch from his flesh. "But it hurt!"
Crossing her arms over the lip of the sink, Tsume let her head fall into them. Genma's glass overflowed. "Yeah, well, you're missing an eye," she mumbled blandly. |
|