[center][color=FireBrick][h1]Oshea Jackson[/h1][/color][/center]
[center][img]http://vignette1.wikia.nocookie.net/marveldatabase/images/6/62/Everett_Thomas_%28Earth-616%29_004.jpg/revision/latest/scale-to-width-down/166?cb=20070412113055[/img][/center]
[center]"Predator, prey--ain't no real difference when they both locked in a cage."[/center]
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[center]Location: Xavier's Mansion[/center]
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A feeling always crept over him when he felt he was being watched. Most of the time it was just his paranoia, but he grew up around predators who knew how to thrive in broad daylight, those who stalked city streets with the most evil intentions dressed in modern lingo and deed: hustlers, boosters, drug dealers, pimps. The skin of Man and the skin of beast blend together too well. He approached the group with a steady pace, only to be swarmed by the same sensation as before; it grew stronger with each step until he saw whose eyes had been stalking him the whole time. Either Ayita was truly apex or he was beginning to lose his mind; how could he hardly manage to spot her though she was right in front of him? Maybe he [i]was[/i] beginning to a step in more ways than he imagined before.

His thoughts tensed as he drew closer to the shifter; it didn't take him long to see what was present in her eyes--the Hunt. She was stalking him! It was no literal stalking of course, in his present state she could surely capture him if she wished; this was to be a strategic exchange. Oshea knew he could make no erroneous moves here and each word he chose had to be the right ones, or she would shut him out completely--and frankly, he was tired of everyone avoiding him for whatever reason.  If all of Oshea's dalliance in books of war taught him anything, it was this: in dealing with the quietest of friends--or enemies--it was best to invite them in. The prey can lure the predator if it makes itself appear weak. He was excited, perhaps too excited, to engage in this game of tug-of-war he had been constructing in his mind.

[i][color=FireBrick]How am I gone start? She look like she's starin' into my damn soul, bro.[/color][/i]
"Start with the weather", his conscious replied to itself.
[i][color=FireBrick]Lame shit. Need something she might be interested in.[/color][/i]
"She hates everybody, son. She prolly ain't even [i]got[/i] no interests." his conscious retorted once more,
[color=FireBrick][i]You wildin', I got this; got suhn perfect.[/i][/color]

[color=FireBrick]"Ayita! Aye! You know, I never got to say thanks for savin' me an' all that. The wolf thing was nice, you know? You did real good out there--better than me, shit. Hah!"[/color]

[i][color=FireBrick]Too light? Maybe too light. Try for somethin' more direct next time. Don't seem like she enjoy small talk.[/color][/i]