you thought you'd never shed a tear?

[Kaena Lykoi]

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mall-caps;">In Character    Though most of the exterior had seemed to be in the same state of decay as the exterior of the ship, even through the years of abuse and grime, Kaena had seen the splendor beneath, an abandoned ghost of riches and royalty. She reached the door of the ship and peered into the dim light of the interior. The lights had probably long stopped working, but there were enough windows to provide sufficient light, at least at the shallow parts of the boat. She stepped over the threshold into the stale air, inhaling deeply. There was a faint stink here that Kaena recognized—death.    The hybrid headed forward, passing through a short, narrow hallway without doors. She pushed the door open, and entered a massive room. It appeared to be some kind of dining room—there were many large tables and chairs, each set with exquisite silver utensils and an intricately detailed china plate. Kaena wandered over to one of the tables and picked up one of the knives, looking it over for a moment before tossing it back down on the table. It clattered loudly against the table, and the Lykoi turned back around, heading for the side of the room. Everything here looked the same, she mused, and then she heard another noise.    Kaena froze, perking her large ears to listen harder. It had sounded like a voice. The hybrid scowled, crouching down low and peering toward the door from whence she came, her single eye focused there. If someone had followed her up, they could easily corner her or get her lost in this maze, and the last thing Kaena wanted to do was starve to death on a boat. She slinked toward the door, softening her footfalls and keeping low to the ground, but moving quickly, cursing herself for having shifted just to play with pretty things—now if someone was looking to pick a fight, she'd have to do so in her Luperci form. It did afford her the use of her knife, but that was buried in her bag, and it was too late to dig it out now. Again, she cursed herself for being ill-prepared, and stopped dead in her tracks as the smell hit her nose, wafting in on the fresh air from outside.    Cold recognition crept through her innards, and Kaena didn't think she could be more upset if Salvaged himself had come back from the dead and stood in that doorway looking at her. The girl was much older now, with tawny brown hair that turned to the color of ash near the tips, piercing sky-blue eyes. Looking at her brought a twisting stab of pain to the Lykoi's heart—here was the daughter she'd left for that thing, Eris, whatever she was—demon, monster, reincarnation. Kaena wasn't sure anymore, the babbling of Astaroth's final words had all blurred and mixed together, bubbling from his mouth with his life's blood. Seeing Rachias now, older and almost unknown, a stranger to Kaena was more painful than any physical injury she had ever suffered.    The canine staggered, leaning heavily against the wall as she clutched her chest, her fist closed tightly over the brilliant red tattoo splashed across her chest. She had almost been able to forget about those three children in the meanwhile—coming back and not seeing them was almost a blessing to the Lykoi, because it meant she didn't have to think about what she'd done. She hadn't had to confront her loss and come face to face with it until now, and it was worse than she'd imagined possible. "Rachias." It certainly was not a question; the Lykoi matron had recognized that scent the instant the faintest wisp of it had wafted to her nose.

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