"Hn!" Sanzo actually takes the moment to light a fresh cigarette, and declares with all of his usual arrogance, "This is a Tuesday."
He means it, too. It's really the same shit he's used to, just wearing a different hat.
Sanzo gives the dead beast a kick as it tumbles in, and then strides away from the crumbling part of the street. "This way."
Not a direct, ninety degree trajectory from the vanishing part of the street, but off at a sharper angle. He points the other way away from the area with a thumb over his shoulder. "There's a lot more of those fucks over there."
He can smell them. Not with his nose, but he doesn't know another way to think of it. They reek of a desperate malice.
no subject
He means it, too. It's really the same shit he's used to, just wearing a different hat.
Sanzo gives the dead beast a kick as it tumbles in, and then strides away from the crumbling part of the street. "This way."
Not a direct, ninety degree trajectory from the vanishing part of the street, but off at a sharper angle. He points the other way away from the area with a thumb over his shoulder. "There's a lot more of those fucks over there."
He can smell them. Not with his nose, but he doesn't know another way to think of it. They reek of a desperate malice.