Perhaps to Tim's shock --and certainly to his own--, Jason listened. He moved them away from the edge of the building so that no one could get a clear visual on them, opting to hop up onto a dormant air conditioning unit to sit on the edge. He moved smoothly, no sign of the fight from the night before in his body as he casually hoisted himself up and plopped down. He didn't offer Tim a spot to sit, but he didn't stop the younger boy from getting comfortable if he so chose. Alfred would be giving him a Look, but Alfred wasn't there and, more importantly, he'd probably never get to see the man again, anyway.
While Tim laid out the facts and all the information that he'd managed to scrape together, Jason peeled off his helmet, the fringe of white flopping into his eyes while he ran a gloved hand through the rest of his dark curls. He was still wearing his domino, of course, but his lenses were flipped up and the occasional question he interjected came in his own voice instead of the helmet's warped tone. It also let him use his nose a bit better, Tim's scent telling it's own story as he recanted the encounter from the night before. Fear, of course, but a twinge of excitement and just the faintest musk of guilt.
It was that last part that made him arch a brow, his domino shifting with the expression.
"So, let me get this straight. You had done the research and concluded that you were dealing with a werewolf before you decided to stake out the thing's known hunting grounds on the last night of a full moon? Jesus, kid. You got brass ones, I'll give you that. You're lucky it had a few brain cells left capable of human thought, cause it sure as hell didn't sound like that goon did.
Maybe it knows you. Or you know it. I mean, why else wouldn't it have just let ol' boy eat you? And, for that matter, aren't wolves supposed to be pack animals? Why kill someone it just turned just to save your skinny ass? Where is it's pack? Does it have one? Is this a 'I thought you only had one cat, not four identical ones' kind of situation?"
Why was he indulging this?
Shaking his head, he shucked off his gloves and reached into his jacket to pull out a half crumpled pack of cigarettes. The lighter was hot pink and cheap looking, but it fit inside the pack and he cupped one taped hand protectively around the little flame as he touched it to the tip of the smoke between his lips.
"Bear trap. I got a couple if you want to borrow them. Only lightly used."
no subject
While Tim laid out the facts and all the information that he'd managed to scrape together, Jason peeled off his helmet, the fringe of white flopping into his eyes while he ran a gloved hand through the rest of his dark curls. He was still wearing his domino, of course, but his lenses were flipped up and the occasional question he interjected came in his own voice instead of the helmet's warped tone. It also let him use his nose a bit better, Tim's scent telling it's own story as he recanted the encounter from the night before. Fear, of course, but a twinge of excitement and just the faintest musk of guilt.
It was that last part that made him arch a brow, his domino shifting with the expression.
"So, let me get this straight. You had done the research and concluded that you were dealing with a werewolf before you decided to stake out the thing's known hunting grounds on the last night of a full moon? Jesus, kid. You got brass ones, I'll give you that. You're lucky it had a few brain cells left capable of human thought, cause it sure as hell didn't sound like that goon did.
Maybe it knows you. Or you know it. I mean, why else wouldn't it have just let ol' boy eat you? And, for that matter, aren't wolves supposed to be pack animals? Why kill someone it just turned just to save your skinny ass? Where is it's pack? Does it have one? Is this a 'I thought you only had one cat, not four identical ones' kind of situation?"
Why was he indulging this?
Shaking his head, he shucked off his gloves and reached into his jacket to pull out a half crumpled pack of cigarettes. The lighter was hot pink and cheap looking, but it fit inside the pack and he cupped one taped hand protectively around the little flame as he touched it to the tip of the smoke between his lips.
"Bear trap. I got a couple if you want to borrow them. Only lightly used."