| [Jan. 23rd, 2009|06:34 pm] |
Asuma choked quietly on a deep-fried piece of zucchini and tried to work out how you explained the concept of Shin Buddhism to a dog. Not that he ever tried to explain it to anyone, but as a mental exercise...
"I'm allergic to cow," he said simply, and watched with great amusement as one gold eye went wide and round. He offered a piece of battered onion dripping with vegetable fat. "Want to try some?"
A long tongue snaked out and licked the tidbit from his hand. Kuromaru crunched for a second, focus turning inwards, then wrinkled his nose and coughed the soggy lump back onto Asuma's plate. Tsume, nose buried in her beer, spluttered a laugh.
"Thanks," said Asuma dryly, and flicked the sorry looking vegetable away. After two years of earning meals whatever way presented itself, and three more surviving on barrack food and ration bars, a bit of dog slobber was not putting him off.
He speared a slice of eggplant, stuffing it happily in his mouth, and thought back to Tsume's comments about her "Inuzuka-clan thing". Old and mostly forgotten lessons on clan dynamics, taught to an unwilling student who really hadn't wanted to be the next Hokage, dammit, percolated in his brain. He scrubbed a hand over his scruffy-bearded chin, watched the pair dive into their steaks--Kuromaru gnawing, Tsume actually using cutlery--and wondered if she was talking about a Beta fight. Because she sure didn't look old enough or good enough to be an Alpha.
Though, hearing her call the other man "kid" was just hilarious.
"Hey, Tsume," he said, around a mouthful of sweet potato. "How old are you? Seventeen?" |
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