[center][h3]Scully "[color=9e0b0f]Wildchild[/color]" Vagabond[/h3]
[color=9e0b0f]---------[/color][/center]
At the Pretty Boy's first comment he felt his fists clench, eye twitching with a sudden need to deck this stupid brat over such a little response, but as an apologetic look replaced his giggle and he attempted to rephrase his remark Wildchild sighed. A long, deep breath, calming him slowly, blowing away the red that had threatened to claim his vision once again. He looked down at his old sneakers shyly, rubbing the back of his head gingerly before glancing up once more, a half-smile and a wince painting his face,

"[color=9e0b0f]Yeah, I look like hell, huh?[/color]" The smile fell as his split lip crackled with pain, and he instead turned his attention to the swing beside Pretty Boy. Without asking to sit he simply walked up and stepped up onto the swing, hands wrapping around the chains while he took a moment to balance both of his feet before glancing around the rest of the park. Autumn was upon the town already, proven by the rotting, colorful leaves that covered the green-ish earth and floated through the chilling breeze like dancers. Halloween would come soon, then Thanksgiving, then Christmas. The school year was already quickly flowing passed him, and even now, after the initial few weeks he had yet to gain any friends.

His reputation was horrid, that was the main reason. The way he spoke and looked just drove people away, and the constant bruises he never allowed to heal fully just seemed to spook any who might have been even the slightest bit interested in him. No doubt this kid was probably terrified of his sudden appearance as well. Wildchild glanced back down at the Pretty Boy, pursing his lips slightly,

"[color=9e0b0f]Are you scared of me, Pretty Boy?[/color]" He wondered out loud, hands tightening around the chains as he leaned forward to meet the other's eyes, his own appearing golden in the sunlight.