When he did read—and these times had become few and far between—Gabriel read about the follies of the past. He did not consider himself much like men. Their ego and their desire to become master of the world around them had destroyed them. Wolves had been stupid before the disease. They lacked any thought beyond the here and now. So with disease came a mutation that made wolves conscious as the old dogs had not been. Certainly, they knew of pain, and sorrow, and joy, but they lacked the linear thinking that made Luperci like men.
And while Gabriel was not a man, he saw how men behaved. More ferarum. This was how they were able to slaughter their own kin and kind so ruthlessly. So Gabriel had studied these things, he had learned and studied and brought on men thought’s as a shade to his own. War was more deception then it was bloodshed. If he could avoid this, he could ensure the safety of Inferni. Hostility would breed fear. Fear would breed hate. He accepted the hate because it ensured his enemies would carry doubt.
Gabriel too, understood the meaning of symbolism and of its power. This was why he carried holy signs. This was why Inferni was scattered with the bones of their enemies. “Haku’s blood runs only in his children,” he reminded her. “All that’s left of him beyond that is bone.”
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