Gabriel was gone, and the usual fury in her heart had turned into wild fire eating away all that there was. But it was all well, and she would live on to grasp her own destiny. There had always been some madness within the bitch, but she had never seemed to dare embrace it. The choice had been surprisingly simple and left her fingers terribly burned, but she couldn’t continue in the role of a victim. And her one true leader had abandoned her and the clan alike; branded himself a traitor in her eyes and turned his back to everything she loved. The pain was fierce and vivid as every emotion that was to soar through her, but the time had come for her to accept the horrors of the world and become one with them. Ezekiel’s grasp on her chain was not secure, and if she felt the need to, she would stray. The Inferni she had loved was no longer.

A wicked girl lived just next door in the mansion she still called home after more than two years, and against her own will, Halo had starting to take a strange liking to the girl and her fucked up ways. A creamy hand stroke her own, flat belly and the possibility of evil spirits gathered there wasn’t at all as terrifying as it should be. Was everything much easier because she had reached the conclusion that she was beyond salvation? Could the children of her womb even be born with intact souls? Itachi had never owned such a thing—he had been a monster from the start, and perhaps his siblings would be too. Everything was possible in this wicked family.

With the sword resting against her muscular back, she stepped out into the open and breathed in the sweet air seasoned with only an echo of salt from distant shores. But Halo would not turn to the ocean today. Instead she moved south and let her feet bring her to the borders and their beautiful skulls.

The scent was present today as well, and it pleased the wicked woman. A criminal by choice, and he would be struck down by her false righteousness. Not because she had to, but because she desired to. But these cowards were quick to turn and flee whenever a clan member appeared to their senses, and that wouldn’t do. The warrior woman idly wondered if smaller bait would be able to draw a wolf in. These lands didn’t hold a lot of true malevolent individuals anymore, but curiosity could be a dangerous thing as well.

Her extended shadow of flesh and blood approached from behind, and stopped next to the bipedal form of the female warrior. There was a fierce fighter within the young girl that she wanted to see without leach. Fingers brushed against the worn gold of the dragon bracelet the one she had thought to be the man of her dreams had given her. She couldn’t make herself get rid of it. But now was not the time to think sad thoughts, because she couldn’t change her ways. The girl beside her had once been a victim too, but the adult would have no more of that. Symera’s personality was already too bold to take such a weak role again.

The woman smiled at the girl as she spoke. The two coyotes did not look to each other, but the Triarii crouched down and let a cream gloved hand brush along the young one’s back. She was a precious little monster, this one. ”We don’t want this stink on our lands,” hushed tones insisted, though the words were softly spoken. There was no sign of vandalism, but she didn’t want to care about right and wrong anymore. ”Why don’t you walk over there and see if you can see stinky?” Perhaps, if the adult kept her distance, a lonely child would draw out the ugly thing. She didn’t feel comfortable with sending Symera out into possible danger though.

The girl said nothing, though revealed obedience through motion. For some moments, Halo remained and watched as the girl’s form moved between the skulls of deceased enemies. There was always fire within her chest, and it was difficult to interpret the colour of the flame. But there was a gentle, curved line dancing on dark lips as she watched the younger female draw distance between the two of them. She was young and flawed just as she had been years ago, and it was a beautiful to observe. Rubies turned into thin slits of blood soon, however, and the adult’s feet found quickened pace and stalked into the underbrush consisting of hybrid vegetation of forest and dry soil.

Out of sight, and the wind’s direction favoured the head warrior. Symera and the stench of wolf filled her nostrils, though there was a good chance that the trespasser wouldn’t appear today either. Loners were good at evading clan members once they stalked by the borders. Inferni’s reputation wasn’t exactly what it once had been, but it was well known that the clan’s members were hostile more often than not.

But Halo’s contentment was soon to change as the enemy in fact did appear.

It seemed too sudden when the foul beast appeared, and it was too close to the young girl she had sent out into the field for the mere purpose of playing bait. The pace of her heart seemed to leap up her throat with terrible surprise as the wolf instantly lunged for the smaller coyote child. This wasn’t part of any plan of hers; Halo had never meant for Symera to step into true danger. Whatever strategy she had plotted was abandoned immediately, for she could no longer treat this as the game she had intended it to be. The twin blade was in her hands before she could think to draw it, and swift feet, whose muscles swam with adrenaline, brought her to the violent pair at once.

Perhaps she did get her moment of surprise, but there was no thought guiding her actions now, only the need to protect the girl from the hostile beast that snapped after her with its cruel fangs. ”Get back!” she hissed to the little girl, sending her sword forward in a stabbing motion to stop the wolf's jaws from reaching the younger coyote.

There was a first time for everything, and she had hardly seen such a malicious nature in a canine that was supposed to share her intelligence. But this was nought but a mindless beast in need of slaying. It was swift and strong as any desperate creature, but she was swifter, stronger. The twin sword and its owner knew each other as soul mates would, and the sharp edge kept angry teeth and dirty claws from her flesh. Red glare could not afford to stray from the rabid wolf, though the adult noted the child’s movement in the corner of her eyes as she thankfully did as she had commanded.

Without the child to worry about, there was only one thing in the world she would have to pay attention to, and she did this with a smile, teeth bared. Black nostrils flared as they sensed the blood in the air. She had dearly missed this. Her mind and heart was that of a warrior, but the coyote clan had not embraced trouble lately, and she had been starving for too long.

Every twist of the blade had been purely to deflect or prevent the monster from reaching her, though her tactic shifted the moment the wolf’s flawed yellow eyes settled on something, someone behind her. The terrible smile became a grimace, though she stepped to the side on elegant limbs, allowing the beast to catch a glimpse of the younger coyote that it had been so close to get a taste of. The Lykoi tossed a dark natured glance to Symera as the wolf moved to the bush where olive coloured eyes peered out.

So close, but unfortunately so far. As the beast moved to rush past her and to the smaller prey, the sword was brought down in a sharp angle and bit through the lower part of the wolf’s spine. Too easy. She watched as the muscles in the wolf’s back legs gave in.

”There we go.” It was ridiculous how quickly her pulse settled. The beast was still dangerous, of course, though not very mobile. Uncertain about the canine’s wit and determination, she stepped forth to stake her sword to the ground, letting it pace through the monster’s left front leg before digging deep into the ground. Now he wouldn’t be going anywhere for certain. Fingers moved to brush auburn locks from her victorious face. ”You can come out now, Symera,” her content voice could announce, and she did her best to ignore the pathetic sounds of pain beside her.

She laid a soft hand on the top of her pulsing heart; felt the pace return to the normal, steady rhythm she thought it should have maintained all along. Emotions could make her judgement poor, and she didn’t wish to lower her own defences by letting her feelings get in under her skin. Her other hand supported her curved hip, and two clawed fingers tapped against the belt she wore, cantankerous.

Symera gave the wolf’s black snout a little dash, and Halo hid a smile. She supposed the younger coyote could take the glory for finding the rapid beast. The girl had moved up to stand by her mentor again as she crouched down to let fingers brush through the rough wolf pelt. She knew well that she was beyond the reach of the one remaining weapon it still possessed. But the fine fur was severed at the back and sticky blood still flushed forth from her metal’s cruel bite. How disappointing, maybe.

”What now?” the woman repeated, scarlet gaze moving to her young ally. Symera had to learn to do some thinking. ”Honour our agreement.” she said, wishing the girl had discovered her optime already. She didn’t know if Symera still wanted one of the weatherworn skulls or not, but if she did, Halo still required a severed head to replace it. ”I want its head.”

What she saw next was enough to extinguish any doubt the adult might have left about her young protégé. The girl dutifully attended to her task, though she would need more than her current set of teeth unless she would want to spend hours chewing through muscle, thick sinew and bone. The sounds of a canine in pain bothered the woman less than she would have thought. The road she was heading down was dark and wicked, and this girl would seem a guide more than a follower.

Silently, the woman stepped up next to the girl, whose jaws were chewing through the neck of the still living canine. ”Good girl,” the sugary voice purred. Actually, it had been a bad idea to request the younger female to retrieve the head. The fur on the wolf’s neck was thick and ideal as a pelt piece, but small teeth were quickly decreasing this fur’s value. Oh, well. It was Halo’s fault, not Symera’s.

”This wont do though,” the woman said, giving the four legged coyote a little shove to get her to move off the doomed wolf. ”There’s a better way,” she continued as she placed a clawed foot heavily between the wolf’s shoulder blades. Her pristine katana was removed from the wolf’s front limb, but it wasn’t a fortunate change, because it quickly rose to do damage elsewhere, and offered almost a clean cut when she made the attempt to decapitate the foul thing. The thing probably died at the first hit, but another cruel leap of the sword was required before the head was no longer attached to the rest of the body.

Lips exposed pearly white fangs in silent victory. Crouching down, she lifted the severed head up with her free hand, showing it to the darling girl by her side. ”One less stinky to worry about!” It was sick that her mood was dancing bright despite of this foulest of acts. This child was even worse than her.

Crude child, she actually smiled at the severed head as the adult held it before her. Coagulating blood dripped thick and dark onto the dark ground. Truly, this was a hostile and terrible scene. The Triarii’s thoughts paced back to a not too distant path, where the child before her had been a male that had ached for greatness. Would Maki have smiled like this if she had shown him death in such a manner? Symera’s face revealed not a worry in the world. How the ruby eyed woman loved to gaze upon such wickedness.

Muffled laughter pressed behind shut lips at the girl’s next words. She wanted to wear it like a hat. A light frown entered Halo’s face as she decided to consider this, and she turned the bodiless head around so that she could gaze into its dead face. Technically, it could be done. At the borders, it took days and weeks for a skull to be eaten somewhat clean. This was no skull, it was a face with meat and eyes and tongue. How disgusting. But for some reason, Halo was willing to go through this disgusting and heavy job to make the girl happy. ”Certainly.”

The smaller knife was drawn for this purpose, and the woman laid the head upside down on the ground and started to dig through the throat, working her way into much and more mess. Tongue whatever meaty pieces she could get was cut and torn out, and with much effort, she cut down into the soft, mushy brain, making a mess with as the goal was simply to make the head hollow enough for the child to wear it. Eyes were poked out by the blade’s tip and ripped out, and the dark red of a destroyed brain crawled up her hands and wrists as she dug out the soft texture with fingers and palms.

It took time to do this, but when she finally thought herself finished, laughter swivelled within her chest, momentarily trapped as she looked at the messy headwear she had managed to create for the girl. Most of the pelt was intact, and the bastard still had ears and nose, but eyes were two empty sockets and the skull was more or less hollow now. The Triarii had almost been surprised to have found a brain at all. The stench could not be denied, but Halo hadn’t had any issues with blood and gore for a very long time. One could get accustomed to everything, even the devils wearing their Cheshire cat smile.

”Try it on, girl,” the woman crooned, sharp teeth exposed in a toothy smile, sleek with expectation.

Cannibalism was something she would never approve of, no matter what. Her task at cleaning out the wolf’s heavy skull had not distracted her from noticing what the girl did. No frown would rise, as she had encountered cannibalistic scenes in the past, but she didn’t approve. But this girl was a poor, young child and didn’t know any better. Or, that was what Halo assumed. Meat was meat, she supposed, though she would never take a bite of another canine. At least not without severe mental issues accompanying the act.

The girl padded closer to the outstretched hands holding the hollowed wolf’s head, and the adult slowly lowered over the child’s own head. ”It’s a bit heavy,” she warned, adjusting the head a little to ensure that the child would be able to peer out through her hat’s empty eye-sockets. It was so far from beautiful. ”You look wonderful, child.” A wide grin tugged at the edges of dark lips, and the woman’s now empty arms wrapped around knees that were drawn up against her sweetly curved chest. Symera’s face would be red and sticky with leftover brain and blood, but that wasn’t an issue. The Lykoi had already decided that she was a beautiful child.

Then, the woman turned from the masked child to peer at the headless corpse. It was quickly stiffening, and it was a shame. Although arms and fingers were filled with gentle ache from the effort of cleaning out Symera’s unique hat, she drew forth the hunting knife once again and started skinning the remaining corpse. Although a wolf’s fur often was rough rather than silky, it provided warmth and comfort. She wanted this, and wasn’t above this task.

Oh, what would the golden Aquila think of them now? Lips withdrew and showed her teeth as she thought of how her leader would have dealt with the situation if he had been here. But Halo didn’t know Ezekiel, and she had no interest in establishing stronger bonds with a traitor such as he. It was only his blood that had permitted him to rejoin this clan again, and rise to the rank of King. Gabriel had been a worthy being to follow without question, but Ezekiel was not his father, and she couldn’t bury the hatchet.

The girl’s presence prevented thoughts from drifting. ”It’s always nice with warm furs when winter comes,” the adult simply answered. After the snowstorm early this year, the mansion didn’t have a single window intact, and the inhabitants of the building had been forced to be creative. Halo had covered up her bedroom window with wooden planks and stuck moss to eliminate remaining paths the insistent breeze could have found. But ah, how she loved her own little place, and how she loved her furs and bones. Perhaps this dead beast’s skin would decorate her wall. Or perhaps the floor was more fitting, so that he would always be stepped on, even in death.

Her muscles were worn and her body warm when she was done with cutting and ripping the skin from the dead wolf, but when she was done, she rolled the fur together and put it over her shoulder. Smaller predators could feast on the remains. The red eyed woman turned only back to spit at the dead, before she waved the girl along. It was time to go home.