foxofthewildhunt:

“Oh, well, there it is ya know. Cause that wild, that space, is my home. There’s nothing like that place that feels safe and familiar and is just home… Well, it feels like it is, i don’t know if it is technically, I guess it could be but…” There he went. An awkward cough and he rubbed the back of his neck as he realized and stopped. “So you’re on the road?” 

“Tha’s the sor’ o’ thing my momma would o’ said. She was a drif’er, said the open road was the on’y home for her.” It was still something he was trying to see for himself, but to him, home was a bar in the middle of nowhere with hellhounds keeping watch. “Yeah, headin’ back ta Nevada. Ain’ been home in almos’ a month. Go’a make sure my cousins ain’ causin’ too much trouble. I’m Chay’on by the way. Can’ say I’m grea’ a’ introducin’ myself.”

foxofthewildhunt:

“Exactly!” He bounced on his feet a little, “Now come on, what’s a better view than the wild expanse?” 

“Home wi’ a good sunse’ behind i’. Bu’ tha’ coul’ jus’ be cuz I spend a lo’ o’ time on the road.”

foxofthewildhunt:

“Don’t know if it’s an upgrade when I’d probably just space out and splat against a tree or a cliff or something, you know?” Gilley laughed, wringing his hands together and nodding a few times. “Least I’d die with a good view?”  

“Fair poin’. Sky don’ have the same tread tha’ highways do ta keep ya awake an’ alert.” His eyes rolled, but the grin stayed fixed upon his lips. “If ya say so.”

foxofthewildhunt:

“Oh. Sorry, that’s, that’s probably not a fun thing to be reminded of.” A few steadying breaths, “That’s not why I’m, no, I just get a bit nervous and yeah.” Good word usage there, Gilley. “I have been called a junkie because of a coffee habit, but I haven’t moved onto harder things like energy drinks yet so I think it’s a bit unfair?” A lopsided smile, yep, this is fine. 

He gave a shrug, not too bothered by it. “Ya ge’ used ta i’ when i’s all ya’ve e’er known. Don’ help tha’ I li’erally grew up in a bar when he wasn’ draggin’ me on the road wi’ him.” The joke about energy drinks and addiction made him snort, trying not to laugh. “Bu’ Red Bull gives ya wings. Ain’ tha’ worth the upgrade?”

foxofthewildhunt:

“I…” He slowed, flexing his fingers in an attempt to calm. “None. None, not really. Unless you count caffeine, which i guess you can, you know it messes with you pretty badly but…. “ He caught himself this time. “Sorry.“

“Ya sound like my da’ when he’s tryin’ ta see how much he can take wi’ou’ ODin’.” Grayson had tried to clean up when he was a kid, but as soon as he had hit thirteen, it had been all downhill. “How much caffeine ya go’a drink ta ge’ to tha’ poin’?”

foxofthewildhunt:

“Don’t, don’t really get in a say in it.” Nice weather and the salamander instincts just demanded naps outside. “I probably just need a drink, you know, dehydration, lethargy, spacing out,” He started rambling off the symptoms, they didn’t really apply here, but strings of anxious chatter were always applicable. 

“Dude, wha’ the hell drugs are ya on? Cuz some shi’ really shoul’n’ be mixed.” It seemed like the sort of nervous rambling his dad did when he was playing with the harder prescriptions. Which was never a comforting thing to be around.

foxofthewildhunt:

“Huh? Oh, yeah, course, right, sorry.” A nervous laugh squeaked out, well this wasn’t embarrassing or anything. “I wasn’t staring at you, I just….” He waggled a few fingers next to his head, “Spaced, you know?” 

“Pro’ly ain’ the bes’ place ta space ou’,” he pointed out. Sure, it was a decent enough area, but people were assholes. Of course, he could have easily played his own tricks on someone spacing out in public like that.