you eat my kind for breakfast

Aurèle Aston · 04-07-2010, 02:02 PM

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300+. :>

The boy did not much resemble a newborn anymore—nor did he resemble anyone outside of his mother. She had been very careful about that. The other boy, who had been lost so young, had resembled his father. Even though she had never known the man, and even though she had never learned of his name or his wickedness, she had sensed it. Aurèle had known the moment he had thrust himself into her that she was being touched by evil. It did not matter. He was a tool, and she had used him just as he had used her. Both had a desire to remain immortal. Through their sons, they could be.

That was if the other had survived. He had faded from her thoughts as the months had gone by, and Anatole had stopped asking about him. They had survived, and that was all that mattered. If anything was to be said of the Aston woman, it was that she managed this better then any other. After all that had happened to her, it was amazing she had made it out of that fire. That she hadn’t lost her mind as a child. She might have, the way her green eyes burned with that peculiar fire, but her smile was reassuring (whether or not it was true). “I suppose so,” she granted, sensing the presence of the crow above her. “As am I, Dawali. I’m sure we’ll settle in quickly.”

Once addressed, Anatole straightened his posture, and while his face crinkled momentarily at the thought of being addressed as a child, it did not linger long. “Mhm,” he grunted. Without turning her head, Aurèle spoke sharply. “Anatole, il est a manitou, soyez poli.” Frowning slightly, the boy spoke again. “Thank you.” Satisfied with his response, the pale woman spoke to Dawali once more. “I’m certain you’re busy, we can find our way from here. “

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