Word Count :: 534 le fuuuuu. i post and you log off. ;..; !!! bite me! backdated dec 10th if possible?

It had taken less than a full moon’s time to settle down and earn (if it could be considered as such) a place among others. Granted, her newly acquired home was temporary but it was a weight off her shoulders nonetheless. As per the agreement between the two new housemates, Lilin would not have to worry about food and shelter as long as she provided a helping hand in Barrett's endeavours: a hypocritical trade, considering the fact that she simply did not agree with the activities he engaged in. She’d been raised a certain way, elevating to a higher state of mind by seeking Azathoth’s guidance as opposed to recklessly indulging in drugs and alcohol. It was the same thing, she’d once been told: the same satisfaction and sense of invincibility. Of course, the latter way of achieving elation was for the weak.

Her peculiar mindset obviously posed a problem of great magnitude. Her whole life revolved around centuries-old prophecies and apocalyptic predictions, as opposed to just getting a clue and putting together her own opinions based on personal experiences. How could she? She had no life experiences up to date. She’d lived in Lillith Stormbringer’s shadow for far too long and this was the end result of an existence sheltered from communal life. The two-toned juvenile had wandered off earlier that morning, choosing to leave without notifying Barrett of her intentions. She doubted he would care anyway, seeing as he was probably off gallivanting himself. Why she’d decided to head further north, she couldn’t say. Perhaps her goal was to decipher just how many packs were settled up there. And as she quickly came to realize, it was definitely more than she’d anticipated. Three? She couldn’t be certain at this point.

It took very little to throw her off course. A scent she knew all too well, not personally but figuratively, hung heavy in the atmosphere: a concoction of hormones and slightly acidic waste outlined a very specific area ahead. It reeked with bad omens and brutal memories of a past life, bringing forth forgotten images of withering purity. Her dam hovered over the pups, tarnished fangs covered with the blood of the innocent. It had been for Azathoth, for their salvation. It had been for His contentment and to rid the world of the undeserving. Sooner than later, she found herself standing before the salt and pepper femme burgeoning with life to come. The cult’s descendent was conscientious enough not to trespass, treading carefully outside the lands claimed by the pregnant bitch. It would’ve been too easy to bring harm upon her and the unborn in her womb, seeing as she was seemingly unaccompanied and too heavy to fend for herself.

Luckily, she did not bear the barbarity her mentor possessed. Her mother was an extremist while Lilin liked to interpret things in her favor. Putting herself in harm’s way over something as trivial as this was foolish and unnecessary. Her God had yet to show the need for compensation. Snorting with apparent dread, Lilin halted several feet away from her current subject of interest before throwing her nose in the air, aiming to point at the woman’s belly. “Smells like death.”

Word Count :: 458 usmell.

Bewilderment was passed around like an unwanted cold. Judging from the vague expression of confusion to have emerged on the Ichikan’s face and the inquiry that came soon thereafter; she had been infected first. Perhaps the Soulstorm juvenile hadn’t thought things through before speaking. From another person’s perspective, the origin of her statement and the reason behind it might’ve been hard to grasp. And yet, in all of her confusion, the salt and pepper femme never once displayed signs of panic or distress. She barely showed signs of anything, really. This in turn somewhat perturbed the loner. Now faced with two choices, whether to explain or not, she took a pause to assess the situation while pairing it with her victim’s aura.

She hadn’t noticed it before: how alike and yet so different they both were. While Lilin bore an exotic appearance, the pregnant canine did too. Not exactly the same, per se. Their coloration was different and in no way comparable but certain patterns were still oddly kindred. “You’re excused,” she replied after a moment, seizing the opportunity to fire back a comment of her own. A satisfied smile morphed onto her lips then, demonstrating how pleased she was with the way she’d handled the inquiry. It hadn’t even been a proper question anyway. She had nothing to be excused from so how could a proper answer be provided? In all reality, Lilin hadn’t meant to be rude with the last words she’d offered but then again, it hadn’t quite dawned on her that wolves in general weren’t as easy- going as Barrett and his two dog companions.

Maybe it was the way the other female carried herself that intrigued Lilin the most. In all of her pregnant glory, the stranger still had a natural air of superiority that could not be ignored in conjunction with a naïveté worthy of a child: two unlikely endowments that logically would not work well together, or so she would have thought before meeting this little creature. This is essentially what kept her lingering; feeling slightly empowered by the idea that no matter how high of a rank the pack wolf held, it had absolutely no impact on the cult heir. “Your children. What poor excuse of a pack allows one of their heavily pregnant females to traipse so closely to unclaimed lands?” she mused, keeping her gaze on the cherry-colored irises before her.

“If a male's thoughts wander while having relations with his lover and he thinks of another female, his unborn children are fair game to the lilin," she recited expertly, depicting the archaic history of Samael and Lilith. With a smile neither sinister nor affable, Haku Soul’s daughter finally introduced herself as part of the omen. ”I’m Lilin.”

Word Count :: 435 sent you a PM.

There was a brief, unspoken power struggle between the two women. Lilin was no fool, she could see the imperial approach and self-righteous behaviour emanating from her rival’s comportment. Misinterpretation and her unwillingness to step down and walk away were at the origin of an impending storm, an argument that would not easily settle anytime soon. They were two entirely different elements, fire and ice, fated to experience the inevitable. The Azathoth descendant’s chin raised in a superior, arrogant manner. It was when the littlest female took a step back that her body tensed, Mediterranean irises narrowed and calculating. Was she going to run away? Why the Ichikan could have mistaken Samael and Lilith’s ancient history to be a threat was something she could not quite fathom. To anyone else, it would’ve been an easy feat to understand. But to Lilin, who was merely reciting her teachings, it was quite puzzling to say the least.

She could have closed in on the expanding distance settling between them but she decided against it, merely standing still and watching the pack wolf's reaction. Her smile was long gone, leaving no trace of its prior existence. Instead, as the child-bearing femme proceeded with a reply of her own paired with a new, aggressive stance, Lilin allowed her upper lip to curl into the epitome of repugnance. She could handle many a blows but the unfounded accusations tugging at her ears weren’t well received. What false words had she spoken? Not a single one was fictitious. Au contraire, her story was nothing less than authentic. It had been taught to an incalculable amount of believers. It could be traced back to the very beginning of time! Lilin had a lot to learn and life to live. Lessons were boundless and plentiful, making her an inexperienced adolescent at most. But if there was one thing she was wholly sure of, this was it.

The tension rose. While the salt and pepper she-wolf spoke her nonsense through clenched teeth, Lilin adopted a proper upright position. “Did I strike a chord?” she taunted, assuming that must’ve been it. Were her children indeed the product of infidelity? An accident, perhaps? The result of a drunken debacle? “There is nothing false about the words I’ve spoken, you’ll see.” That was a promise. She was far too deeply involved in a world of divinities to differentiate parables and reality. This had been the case with her dam, as well. Indignation rang clear in her voice. No matter how foolish this stranger was, she was right about one thing: Lilin was better off away from this place.