Highway to Hell, [P, J]

Lucia Cabriel · 06-05-2010, 09:34 AM

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WC: 751

It appeared that the honesty on why this ebony wolf had stumbled across the Inferni borders had a better effect on the sable-furred hybrid than planned. Malachite coals watched as the Centurion’s aura seemed to shift – the once territorial behaviour switching, it appeared as though she could understand, and perhaps relate to Lucia’s situation. It was surprising, but she was grateful – the mind of the ebony wolf wasn’t prepared for a fight, so avoidance was the better policy it seemed.

She nodded quietly to the words of the older female. It made sense, even if the words spoken seemed like a cover up. “Understood,” her gaze crossed over the body of Kaena, examining each of her scars and wondering where each of them came from. The tattoo intrigued her as well, the chaos star – it glared out like a bad omen. Lucia placed it down to a family emblem – after all, she was sure she had seen it elsewhere before as well. “I would have called him, but I was worried.” Lucia had no idea why she was opening up to this woman, nor why she felt strangely obliged to in the first place – the shift in mood on the Centurion’s face had made the atmosphere all that more comfortable, and the words seemed to flow out as casually as the vultures searched for cadavers. “I didn’t know if he wanted to see me anywhere else but out there, you know? Being a wolf and all, I didn’t know if it would cause him grief. That’s the last thing I would want for him. He’s just too good for that.” Lucia’s maw spoke the words easily, but her brain was questioning her. It couldn’t grasp how the bittersweet bitch had become so wrapped up in all the romantic clichés, and sweet words. It preferred her to be violent, and if not a little bitchy from time to time. That was her true form, apparently. But, as everyone would experience every now and then, denial’s a beautiful thing.

The topic of conversation spilled over Lucia’s identity as quickly as the topic as her arrival had come to an end. There was little hesitation between the two subjects, and Lucia almost had no time to collect her thoughts; she was almost a prisoner in her own mind at times. It was one of her weaknesses. “I’m Lucia,” she paused, not really interested in giving her last name. There was nobody around from her family – so it was of little importance. “I don’t have a pack,” she admitted dully, there was a faint tone of distaste on her tongue. It was almost jealousy – she had a small urge to belong somewhere, and even though Snake filled part of that void, it was still as though something was missing. Each pack she had examined seemed to have a reason why she didn’t fit there – too peaceful, too quiet, not enough minds like hers. Maybe she had come up with all the reasons herself, or maybe they were the truth. It was unclear. Either way, the hole was increasing with each passing day, and today was no different. It was sometimes so bad she wished the ground would swallow her whole. But, like always, it never did.

“I wander.” She continued to open up, the remote wrinkles in her brain telling her to shut up and keep herself to herself. Lucia had a policy – she didn’t trust anyone, but yet she found herself beginning to trust this silver female. The question was why – and it remained unanswered. “I live alone, I hunt alone. I fight alone.” She sighed to herself. “Snake has given me a reason to live,” she fell back into that cliché frame of mind again, almost not knowing she had. “But I’m sure that’s enough of the mushy stuff, right?” She smiled lightly, trying to show kindness as best she could. It wasn’t her strong point, but it was worth a shot.

Extending an arm, the obsidian loner fiddled with one of the pockets of her bag. Pulling out another cigarette – clearly a way to hush the anxiety in her veins, she placed it between her lips and casually lit the butt. Inhaling deeply, smoke wafted out of her nostrils and mouth in unison. The taste was ultimate bliss. Her whole body shivered slightly, a chill of relaxation tickling her spine. Looking at Kaena, she held out another cigarette with her spare hand, the other hand clasped around the smoking stick. “Want one?”

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