[/html]It had only been a short time since she had been reunited with her sister, but already Cassandra had allowed herself to reveal far more than she had ever intended. There had been, admittedly, some relief in sharing the burden of secrets; she had been grateful for the words given, the closeness and overwhelming comfort of familiarity, and the warmth of every embrace. But those feelings of security and trust diminished easily in Myrika's absence, and she again felt vulerable, weak, exposed. Though not always unbearably heavy and suffocating, the tightness in her chest remained. She was in Inferni: a place of betrayers and of fire.
The Infernian spoke her name and the albino found her scowl deepening in response. "Second in command" meant nothing to Cassandra; she was not a clansmember, and though she recognized her technical status as 'guest' at the bottom of the hierarchy, she had no patience for playing nicely with those that would not grant her the same. But Vesper? This was the woman her sister had given her heart to? The colorless hybrid sat up but did not stand, uninterested in revealing her sprained ankle.
"Cassandra Asylum," she said slowly, knowing, as always, that the name probably meant nothing. What reason would Myrika have had to mention her? "Myrika's told me of you... though she couldn't articulate what made you so great." Some part of her recognized that her hostility was as unhelpful as it was unwaranted. This was an Infernian, but Myrika had chosen her, as she had chosen the whole of the clan, over everything else she had known. There had to be some goodness here. (But so what if there was? It would never be good enough.) She knew it would upset her sister to know that she'd spoken to Vesper as she was. But Myrika wasn't there, and it was so much easier to be angry, so much safer to be angry, than it was to despair over things that would not be changed. "So," she continued, glaring critically at the other woman, "What makes you so great?"
| Messages In This Thread |