He moved quietly, like a shadow melting over a night covered rock. Despite his enormous size, the male made little noise on the last of autumn's crunching leaves; long ago, Columbine Lykoi learned the importance of stealth and laying low. In the dark of this November night only the male's bright fiery eyes shone like beacons; otherwise, he was quite concealed. Although he was rather assured of his solitude, the towering male held himself stiffly, acutely aware that an enemy could present itself at any moment. He prowled the borders, much like his brother Helotes might have been doing when the siblings first came across each other at the gateway to Inferni, waiting in great anticipation of anyone who might try and infiltrate his new homeland.
Though he was acting as a guard, it would have been incorrect to assume Columbine had miraculously acquired some sort of devotion to his new clan. His heart remained as cold as ever; his mind remained ever emotionless and calculating. Already, the Lykoi man was devising ways to rise through the ranks as quickly as possible. So much of his life had been spent as the subordinate, as the victim - try as he might, Columbine could not forget the harsh treatment bestowed upon him by his mad father. He was consistently reminded of his inadequacy every time he moved too quickly and the scar on his back troubled him briefly or he spared a glance to where his Lykoi tattoo ought to be. Remnants of the mark could still be seen, but it was imperfect, tattered; much like Columbine himself, despite the intimidating aura he possessed.
Columbine kept the skulls in sight, moving mechanically and slowly. There was not much light in the sky, and it would be easy to miss the large hybrid. On occasion, though, his intense concentration on being entirely silent would slip and he would step on the wrong stick, sending a resounding CRACK through the darkness. Each time, he was more and more disgusted with himself; the male, though he would not admit it to anyone and barely would to himself, had more work to do before he would be a proficient warrior (and perhaps more, he thought in his jaded and proud mind) of Inferni.
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