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Varying scents of the clan’s multitude of members stuck to her nose like glue, but it was something the woman was more than familiar with, and unless a particular member scent was prominent above all and whose smell promised her that their presence was nearby, she didn’t take any special notice. It took longer than what she would have expected to catch up to her rat-tail cousin’s approaching presence. Today’s swift breeze wasn’t on its most helpful stage, and it did not carry her cousin’s stench directly to her, unfortunately. Sharp claws, coloured dark gray from her mother’s side of the family, shallowly scratched against the softness of her palm, without risking drawing blood, of course. It was one of the small, unconscious things she did when her mind was more or less distracted and far away from the presence. She was a woman of fire, but in these sparse moments, it wasn’t unheard of to catch a glimpse of a peaceful state of mind. Fire burned and ate up everything in a cruel speed, but sometimes it was well worth to take one’s own time to reflect upon things. Halo’s grave flaw was that it took much for her to move on from unpleasant things, and therefore the learning curve too could be devious. She had yet to discover a way to forgive. The word itself seemed foreign to her. She knew what it meant, but she didn’t know how to quench the anger in her chest.
But when the much shorter woman was detected, both eyes and ears drew in on the lesser creature. Pupils shank in their crimson depths, in a manner similar to the hunter’s when it detects its prey. As so often, the woman’s initial impulse was to snarl and move in to draw blood, but she was an older version of herself. Not a whole lot of improvement there, of course, but it took more than a mere glimpse of the wrong individual to fuel enough fire to force well placed locks to crack and melt down to release the dragon within. Halo would always be a hot tempered bitch, but there were alternative routes she could dive into. Her temper had gotten her into too much trouble in the past, and often much more than what was worth it. That was not to say that she had full control of the fire that burned within her day and night, however. It seemed no too long ago since she had cast herself on top of the little China-whore’s brittle body to deliver blow after blow to transform silver and blush into blue and blood. Gabriel de le Poer had probably saved her life that day by stepping in between and forcing his Centurion off the petite little slattern, because Halo could have continued on for much longer if she hadn’t been brutally interrupted in the beating.
But the existing Aquila. How would he have reacted to such a thing? What conclusions would he have drawn if Zana simply vanished one day, never to return? The thought was lovely to ponder on, but it required more to push her to actual action. She doubted much fuzz would have risen, to be honest. The unworthy being had abandoned them abruptly before and would do so again within a heartbeat if she was given a reason to do so, Halo did not doubt. Come the next war, and so many of the clan’s current members would vanish. Strange how wars did that to the clan, since this was the time when great numbers were needed. She supposed few canines truly wished for death, but true dedication involved the risk of having to face the end in order to save your home and your family. She hoped she would never be forced to protect such a lowly creature, though, though the Aqulia could certainly command her to do so. Ears draped with silky copper lay flat against the darker locks adorning her head, revealing visual distaste for both the thought and the approaching bitch she eyed. She would half have expected the rat-woman to turn and break into a different route to avoid confrontation, but it seemed she insisted on crossing swords. Or paths. It all depended on the outcome, she supposed.
It would probably have been easiest for both of them if the lesser woman had chosen a path that wouldn’t collide with Halo’s. But Halo seemed to encourage conflict, and with so much anger trapped in head and body, it could perhaps be nice to see if she could throw some into the rat’s face for a change. Zana’s behaviour from the meeting was still sour in the Triarii’s mind. It was no secret that these two despised each other, but Halo believed she had managed to behave well enough around the rat-lady. But when the little gesture wasn’t appreciated, or simply ignored and rewarded with insolence, no matter how small the insult was, Halo’s problem with the individual multiplied. Right now, she had problems tolerating the idea of Zana alone. But now the little bitch was here, crossing her path and destroying her day completely. Young or not, nothing could amend the stain of filth this lowly rodent would leave in her wake. Halo exhaled from flaring nostrils, though refused to allow dark lips to draw back to offer finely lined teeth and a guttural snarl in hostile greeting. One would have thought a clan member was safe from the warrior’s wrath, but China’s beating had shattered that false belief. But she had also committed an unspeakable crime that had coloured her vision black and red and rendered her completely blind.
”Well, well,” a lovely purr sounded instead, dancing atop a sweet, feminine voice without the obvious stench of falsehood. Their first interaction had resulted in hostility immediately, as she had taken action to the rumble that had been born in her cousin’s throat. It could have gone smoother, but Halo put all the blame on Zana and her lack of manners. Hands rose to cross beneath a curved chest, just beneath the chaos star, gifted to her from Kaena Lykoi herself. Short as the other was, the Triarii’s chin turned down as she spoke her two-word line. Pupils dilated into a somewhat more normal size, though remained feeble in their blood-red pools. Symera shouldn’t be so effective at executing intruders by the borders, because apparently it left no savage beasts to deal with this unfortunate lowlife here. One could always wish an accident would occur, but rodents were known to be strong-willed and escaping death. So sad. Pawns could be useful, but Ezekiel had made her into something more, and Halo couldn’t do anything but loath the direction of which this was going. This was all a despicable farce, and she didn’t want to play along with this bullshit.
”So, what are we up to?” the warrior wondered, tilting a beautifully sculpted face the slightest as her voice sweetly rang with the apparently innocent question. She wasn’t entirely aware of the woman’s current rank, as she held little interest in anyone that wasn’t above her in rank or part of the warrior tier. Zana was neither, and therefore the Lykoi woman hadn’t bothered finding out anything about her. Fingers tapped against the soft fur on her arms, and her darker tail gracefully glided behind her feminine form; slow and dangerous, without a set mood to reveal. Halo could be reserved if she wanted to be, and didn’t have to spew fire immaturely. She supposed she could handle treating the other with some dignity. She didn’t bother to offer a false smile though, as she so often did. This little rat didn’t deserve that much. Coyote ears lifted some from their bed of soft hair, though, remained back-leaned, in close proximity of her skull. She remained aware of her surroundings, but her main attention had moved over to the freak before her. It was unfortunate when ally and enemy was found in the same creature; it made it difficult to figure out how to behave around the individual. But Zana’s mutual feelings had made it much simpler to deal with, thankfully. Throw one rock, and more would follow. Halo was fond of stoning.
Your faith walks on broken glass
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