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Eyes of ravishing scarlet hues turned upwards to the depressed weather above her auburn painted figure. Large audits revealing her prominent coyote blood swivelled and learned against soft, though damp hair that framed in her narrow, exotic face. Dark lips were broken by a modest, unconscious frown of disapproval as she continued to step along the invisible line of Inferni’s claim. Every now and then, her path was forced to draw a petite half circle around a stick with a mounted head on top, but she was so accustomed to the grinning faces by the clan’s borders that she scarcely noticed. If she was to guess which one was her half sibling, she was likely to have failed miserably. Once skin and flesh had been eaten clean from the skull, and once eyes had been pecked out of their sockets, they became the faceless guardians that the clan seemed to be so famous for. Softer souls often shied away once their eyes caught the terrible frozen grins only skulls could successfully offer.
Pale fingers, interlaced with the soft shades of warm, whipped cream, brushed over her branded mark of Chaos, as if in an unconscious attempt to protect it from the moisture falling from the dark skies. The soft cloth she so often wore wrapped around her lovely curved hips stuck to her long legs now, adding another element of dissatisfaction. A distant memory would always emerge from the depths whenever it rained. Her ivory wolf-mother had always adored the sweet white noise provided by the gentle rain. It was slightly painful to linger on. Everything would have been different if Vitium had not stolen Halo and her young siblings away from Colibri’s warm and safe embrace. He had corrupted his daughter’s soul forever, and first afterwards had the girl true father come to strip her for the leftover pieces of what could have been good in her. All that was left was the pain and the anger; a glorious, twisting inferno corrupting her core. But that was all right, for it was all she knew now.
The weight of the sword, latched to her slender, muscled back kept her comfort absolute despite pacing along the fine line between claimed and unclaimed territory. There had been several occurrences of hostility, it seemed, and it would be unfair not to let her in on the fun, she thought. It was unfortunate that Symera seemed to prefer her wolves dead before she decided to drag them back and serve them to her loved ones as trophies. It was the safest approach, of course, and Halo appreciated this, as she involuntary feared for her adopted child. But, the thought of something a little less dead for her darling rodents in the cellar was an appetizing thought that she willed to be reality. But patience was necessary, and she shouldn’t wish for hostile creatures to wander along the borders. But Halo wasn’t a soul that took well to long-lasting peace, and she was hungry for a little something more. One could always wish. She was more than capable of taking care of herself, and she itched to find a real fight for a change.
A few more fingers lifted to brush away strands of wet hair clinging to her face. She probably didn’t look her best at the moment, but lovely bones and shapes were not easily banished by difficult weather and soaked hairdo. She didn’t care as much as she had back in her younger days, anyway. She had partially abandoned her foolish little games anyway. She preferred a more direct interaction these days, one with her sword in hand. How lovely it would have been to get a taste of crimson before this day was over. But long hours by the borders had offered her nothing but uncharacteristic silence. Birds had migrated to warmer areas and were fewer in number than during the warm months of summer. She had caught glimpses of spooked prey along her path, but the woman did not have to chase after her meal just yet. Previous days had been most successful, and the better part of a deer would feed both her and the children for a few more days, unless someone else would like to test the Triarii’s temperament by taking what was hers.
As the woman reached the south-western edge of their borders, she let her finely curved form find stillness for a prolonged moment. Lovely scarlet eyes observed the cold ocean in its continued movement. The steadfast sound of liquid waves against solid rocks could be comforting background noise to the airs, but what Halo adored most about the wild, salty waters was the smell. The smell of salt, weeds of the water, and wet sand. Perhaps she should allow her feet to carry her down to the beach, one day. But for now, she would resist the thought. Perhaps, once Oblivion and Amnesty were judged old enough, the family could wander to the sandier beaches one day, if the weather allowed it. It pained her to know that she was a protective mother. Halo knew full well that children learned though experience and error, but she always found herself hesitant to lead the children into possible danger. She could too easily imagine a child be swept away by a cruel wave, or ripped apart by a cruel mouth.
But it was much better if she was with them than to let them find dangerous things alone. They wouldn’t need to fear if she was nearby. In their minds, as well as her own, she seemed to be an immortal creature. She wasn’t, and this had been proven to her, but the thought was delicious to wallow in, and as long as she lived, Halo would probably always think of herself as something more than another pawn amongst kings. She had the royal blood of two blood-lines, and though Haku’s rein had been terrible, it revealed dark promise from the dirty wolf blood she carried as well. She couldn’t be all bad, for the children she had birthed were perfect.
Your faith walks on broken glass
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