Something's Gotta Give

Halo Lykoi · 01-04-2011, 08:25 AM

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The first name was completely unfamiliar, but not the last title she was provided. It should not honestly matter to the slender woman, but she could not deny that this was a distant family member standing on the other side of the borders. His behaviour would soothe every eye that sought instinctual, traditional sign of submission that was generally required at any border, but she was not kind enough to let that save his skin. She wondered who this child could belong to, for his scent was not the sickening of flowers of the Dahlia de Mai pack. Deep rubies softened somewhat though, and her voice returned to a summer like warmth as she spoke her words in response. ”Soul, you say?” the hint of a previous smile sprouted on full lips, but only barely so. She had abandoned her initial surname a long time ago, and would never return to use it. She had chosen her side.

Her voice rose again, revealing their connection through blood. ”I think we’re related then, for my mother’s name was Soul as well.” And there were not many families that shared that name as far as she knew. The adult was unable to place the boy though, but her minds drifted close to the answer as she considered the alpha male of Phoenix Valley. The Lykoi had even had the pleasure of meeting him, once, when she was younger and bolder, and her main way of spreading misery was through her pet rats; those who had learned to love a wolf’s bleeding flesh. She smiled at that distant memory; of his ugly, scarred face as he had first laid eyes on the scene where one of his pack’s young members lay unconscious with a swarm of rodents feasting on her.

She continued to peer at him from her position behind the Infernian borders, apparently leaving every path free except for that that led him into the clan’s lands. He seemed stuck there, on his neutral piece of soil, and that was where she wanted him to remain for time being. The Triarii could be said to be bored, and even if she mostly despised his kind, he would provide her with some sense of entertainment. ”No, it’s not a big deal” she echoed him when the rest of his words sounded, though eyes remained stern with her general disapproval merely by having him here. Her form stepped up neck to the weather worn skull that she had stood behind, and clawed fingers still stroke the hard surface of the dead.

”What business do you have in the north?” she wondered, sticking her nose where it did not belong. The woman had the ability not to give a fuck about what others thought of her, and a wolf’s opinion was less worth than one of the clan’s silly morons. She would fish for the things she wished to explore more, and when he decided that he would leave or when she got bored, the blade was likely to be drawn. It had been a while since her beloved katana had tasted wolf flesh, and that was not acceptable.

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