Private for Haku . Word Count: 369
It had been nearly two months since Larkspur D’Angelo had come to the borders of Dahlia de Mai. In that time, all of the bleached fur had fallen out. Sections of his body had turned salt and peppered, marred by white that was no doubt largely due to his age and heritage. His father was much larger then the D’Angelo woman who had taken him, and had a nearly pristine white coat (hence his ability to take on the families name). Still, in his Optime form, the majority of his bulk was in his black fur. His weight had shrunk as the winter pressed on, and like it or not, his path had been diverting closer towards the blue eyed man that he considered, in some way, his kin.
The horse, which he had led away from the Dampwoods slowly, was brushed with snow and carrying packs atop its saddle instead of the D’Angelo. Larkspur had not even considered that he might be turned away; he had, after all, not come empty handed. His meeting with Kaena Lykoi had been useful, not only to find out a little more about his aunt-mother, but also to find out about Inferni. Even though he had not realized it immediately, she had handed him a key to his own survival. Thieving and doing what was necessary in order to live was something that Larkspur had been doing since he was a child. While he could hunt, he could not survive this winter alone. He needed Dahlia de Mai, and Haku needed him. Even if the madman didn’t know it yet, Larkspur was the key to his salvation.
A much darker salvation, but a salvation none the less. The can tah around his neck whispered and Larkspur smiled thinly, drawing to a halt at the borders. Behind him the horse, the still nameless halflinger, snorted and shook the falling snow from its face. This was largely ineffective, given the massive forelock that covered her face. A low sound escaped the black wolf, whose own hair still bore the bleached tips, and it seemed to settle the mare. Then, he let out a singular summons for the devil in the chocolate coat, and waited.
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