Bokyung was silent. He did not want to ride out with this warrant office. He did not want to get back on a horse. He was exhausted, sore, hungry--he wanted whisky and a bed and a cigarette.
And now he was going to jail. Or worse.
He stayed quiet, and the cuffs went on his wrists. He didn't fight, but he was overly complacent, that dead-weight sprawl on his body still in place. He looked up at the warrant office with venom written across the line of his eyes.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2016-11-12 09:29 am (UTC)And now he was going to jail. Or worse.
He stayed quiet, and the cuffs went on his wrists. He didn't fight, but he was overly complacent, that dead-weight sprawl on his body still in place. He looked up at the warrant office with venom written across the line of his eyes.