#halosimple {width:440px; padding:10px; margin:auto; text-align:justify; background-image:url(http://dl.dropbox.com/u/5697571/lykoistar10.png); background-position:center; background-repeat:no-repeat;}
#halosimple .ooc {text-align:right; font-family: times new roman, helvetica, sans-serif; font-style:italic; line-height:1.2em;}
#halosimple p {text-align:justify; line-height:1.5em; text-indent:30px;}
#halosimple .bottom {text-align:right; font-family: times new roman, helvetica, sans-serif;}
#halosimple .bottom p {line-height:1.5em; margin:0px;text-align:right; line-height:1.2em; }
#halosimple .name {font-family: 'Calligraffitti', arial, serif; font-size:32px; line-height:1.5em; }
</style>
While she could easily burst into flames for mere nothings, Halo was had been taught by both fathers to keep emotions from being displayed on the fine appearance of her face. She had been brought up to loathe weakness, and to find her within herself had forced her to build tall, impregnable walls and immovable masks. Nothing of this had she managed to create perfectly, but the rays of disturbances in the waters of her face would have been significantly higher in number and cruder in appearance than what she offered her surrounding today. Pain and anger ran hand in hand inside her, always, but the time for tears had ended a long time ago. Halo had wished to continue to exist, but as a child of mixed spirit that had taken to the side commonly judged as the darker half, she had done what she had needed to do to continue life as best she could, no matter how broken she might have been inside.
Few had seen her give up and cry, but there were a few members s left in Inferni that had seen that weak, forbidden side of the fiercest warrior the clan had ever seen. If she wasn’t their all time finest, then she no doubt would be one day. Her passion for war was all that she had managed to hold on to over the years. Once, her dreams had owned the fairy tale appearance, of knights defeating evil. She, as all young, foolish children, had learned that reality wasn’t laced with gold and precious treasure. But rather than to go back to a past she had been taught to loathe, she had kept walking up the same path, drinking in the consequences as they rose to slash at her. The result was a most capable woman indeed, but her mentality was horribly scarred, and some old wounds were still known to leak with her pain.
This was the price she had decided to pay, and there was no room for regret. Her life was acceptable in this form, and with the birth of the twins, she had found a great deal of happiness she hadn’t dared hope for earlier. Itachi had vanquished her desire to try again, but a set of eyes, blessed with the same blood-lit hues as hers, had managed to change her mind. And they had created something precious together. Helotes was not the first to serve fine, apparently genuine compliments about her children. Her one remaining half-sibling in the clan only offered honest opinions, and his viewpoint was that of a healer as well. The children were fierce and strong, and so full of promise that it made her chest swell with unspoken pride. Her eyes expressed what her lips did not tell, but they had already moved past the subject of her children and moved on to the possibility that wished for his.
There was much unspoken, but it wasn’t exactly shyness that kept her from releasing words of a more seductive nature. She would like to think that he would react well to her charm, was she only to release it. But she kept her flirtatious eyes hidden behind fluttering lashes, intent on resisting the fire she found within his finely shaded eyes. His appearance spoke of his delicious Lykoi blood, but she wouldn’t give into her cravings before she had the benefits listed. It was difficult for her to allow her control to slip. She didn’t wish to restrain herself from taking the simple pleasures she could find, but she kept her shallow emotions at bay, at least for now. Dark, auburn locks clung to her chin and throat, and as she lifted her chin to steal another glimpse of the man, a strand fell down to cling to her face as a child might to its mother.
Annoyed fingers struck against the wet cloth clinging to her curved hips, but she couldn’t undo the rain. She didn’t see the twitch of her companion’s hand. Helotes chose to leave the silence after her one word lay uninterrupted, and she didn’t know what to make of that. She hadn’t stepped too poorly through this conversation, but she didn’t know what more she could say. She couldn’t make it all right without joining a game she was not prepared to participate in just yet. Had she known a few more things about this man, she would have been eager to press her body against his, but there were many things she wasn’t aware of, and today, it worked as her disadvantage. Ignorance was a beautiful thing though, and kept her from regretting her lack of proper action.
Fingers turned into loose fists and settled on each hip bone, along with a careless shrug of her shoulders. ”I wish you good luck, then,” the honeyed purr of her voice offered. Turning, slowly, so to offer him a last glimpse of her athletic, feminine frame, she let her heated orbs size him up one last time before she, sweetly smiling, turned with the intention to walk away from the salty coast and the man with the longing heart. Dreams weren’t granted in this place; they had to be taken.
Your faith walks on broken glass