Word Count :: 435 sent you a PM.
There was a brief, unspoken power struggle between the two women. Lilin was no fool, she could see the imperial approach and self-righteous behaviour emanating from her rival’s comportment. Misinterpretation and her unwillingness to step down and walk away were at the origin of an impending storm, an argument that would not easily settle anytime soon. They were two entirely different elements, fire and ice, fated to experience the inevitable. The Azathoth descendant’s chin raised in a superior, arrogant manner. It was when the littlest female took a step back that her body tensed, Mediterranean irises narrowed and calculating. Was she going to run away? Why the Ichikan could have mistaken Samael and Lilith’s ancient history to be a threat was something she could not quite fathom. To anyone else, it would’ve been an easy feat to understand. But to Lilin, who was merely reciting her teachings, it was quite puzzling to say the least.
She could have closed in on the expanding distance settling between them but she decided against it, merely standing still and watching the pack wolf's reaction. Her smile was long gone, leaving no trace of its prior existence. Instead, as the child-bearing femme proceeded with a reply of her own paired with a new, aggressive stance, Lilin allowed her upper lip to curl into the epitome of repugnance. She could handle many a blows but the unfounded accusations tugging at her ears weren’t well received. What false words had she spoken? Not a single one was fictitious. Au contraire, her story was nothing less than authentic. It had been taught to an incalculable amount of believers. It could be traced back to the very beginning of time! Lilin had a lot to learn and life to live. Lessons were boundless and plentiful, making her an inexperienced adolescent at most. But if there was one thing she was wholly sure of, this was it.
The tension rose. While the salt and pepper she-wolf spoke her nonsense through clenched teeth, Lilin adopted a proper upright position. “Did I strike a chord?” she taunted, assuming that must’ve been it. Were her children indeed the product of infidelity? An accident, perhaps? The result of a drunken debacle? “There is nothing false about the words I’ve spoken, you’ll see.” That was a promise. She was far too deeply involved in a world of divinities to differentiate parables and reality. This had been the case with her dam, as well. Indignation rang clear in her voice. No matter how foolish this stranger was, she was right about one thing: Lilin was better off away from this place.
Image courtesy of jeremy vandel; table by the Mentors!
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