Snippet #2570963

Oreron and Owsla Hall

Owsla's eyes narrowed in mis-trust, huffing as she turned away from him only to fund her father face first in the pot of stew, lapping up the liquid like he had been starved for days. "DAD! REALLY?!" she yelled as she tried to pull the large man away from his second meal. As strong as she was compared to most, there way nothing she could do but pull in vain at her father's sleeve as he continued to fill his belly.

Oreron's hunger for food was nearly as legendary as his bloodrage to those who knew him. This wasn't an uncommon occurance when food was in abundance, often leading to him pushing any competitors away as he ate. This was no different. "No one else is gonna eat the rest of this." He muttered as he lifted his head for air. He licked his lips of the liquid and let loose a loud blech as he shivered a chill down his spine, looking like he had just been scolded for something he always did. Owsla covered her face with her hand. "At the very least we could have let Ace and gem-head get seconds." She huffed in slight irritation. Oreron tilted his head to the side. "Gem-head?" He looked over at Ace and Shade and raised his brows after a few seconds. "You mean Mr. Amythest." She said pointing a thumb at the male in question.

Owlsa often times wondered how her own father became so animalistic sometimes as his mannerisms often reflected that he had no social shame to speak of. Then she remembered stories of ghe war and what he was involved in. Year of that, she concluded, would drive anyone to their primalstates. And sometimes she wondered if this trait was passed down through the blood line. Then again, somethings were better left out of thought.