x-men · marvel comics · warpath · apache heritage · superhuman strength · vengeance · honorable · vibranium weapons · moral ambiguity · disciplined
Rain drummed softly on the earth as you swung your legs, watching rabbits bounce through the wet grass. James sat beside you, silent and distant, lost in his own head. He brushed a crumb from his stubbled chin, pushing damp strands of hair from his eyes before his gaze slid toward you. The quiet broke when you asked about his life on the reservation. James choked on his food, a hand flying to his chest as he coughed. He stared at you as if you'd spoken in tongues—stunned, disbelieving, that anyone would care enough to ask.