don't let me drag you down here to my level

Gabriel de le Poer · 03-20-2010, 11:47 AM

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Even if she was not her mother’s daughter, even if no part of her was Lykoi, she would have been chosen. Simply because, above all other things, she was a member of Inferni. She had chosen her coyote blood over the wolves, though she very well could have belonged there more then here. Perhaps in time, she too would realize this. Inferni would destroy everything she had tried to become. Rikka was not a fighter, and was not hardy enough to survive such violence. She was as fragile to him as a songbird, and just as likely to be crushed by barbaric hands. Her brother, the eagle of the Waste, could only be gentle with her for so long. He sensed, as his Hydra did, that she was not supposed to be here.

Her body tensed and the cry that broke from her throat was enough to swallow Gabriel’s field of vision completely. The air felt heavy, and while every part of him demanded retribution, he was unable to act on it. His traitor hands would have carried him to Dahlia in an instant, but without numbers, he would fall. This had been proven to him once all ready. In a blackened-red world, it was only his willpower that kept the Aquila where he was. “Don’t,” he warned her quietly, gently. If she did not quiet herself, he didn’t know what might happen. Even his words felt heavy, stumbling out of his mouth because he could no longer see the world before him. “Please don’t,” he demanded, black hair falling into his face, hands trembling at his side. Gabriel could not stand that noise. He could not stand to hear something so pathetic, so heartbroken, because it would crawl deep into his ears and burrow into his skull until it drove him mad.

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