M - She asked me what it was I want, I said that I

China Rose Lykoi · 02-16-2011, 05:05 AM

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Word Count → 3+ :: table © Sie

Her voice conjured his movement, and once Itachi had moved, she instantly missed the warmth his small connection had provided. Winter was not a season in which she flourished; In spring, when food was more regular, and when her pelt would shed what simple thickness it had feebly acquired against the bitter chill, Itachi's songbird would be beautiful.

Until then, she was only the whispered promise of beauty - Too young yet to be called such, waiting on the moons to pass until full maturity marked her a prize.

She moved with him, peering over as the golden boy first tested the scrap of material, and then handed it silently to her. China took it daintily between a thumb and forefinger, observed the way that slate grey ruffled like a torn flag in the slight stirring of the air. Then, smoothing it out over her palm, the girl peered curiously at the strange emblem once more.

It seemed queer to her, that the prince wished to brand himself with the insignia of a world that was not his. His blood was royalty, but not to the strangers he named Anathema. Did he wish to forget his own blue blood? China would never mark herself in such a way. Although she was loyal to her family in Inferni, she had little thought for the pack itself. She was a free thing; one of the Earthmother's most prized daughters.

Assuming the purpose of the strip of material (for it was not too difficult a thing to comprehend, and she had seen it worn such before), the silver dappled girl faced the traitor once more, a look of concentration pinching her sweet face. Finger smoothed away the longer strands of gold that fell to fetter his vision, and slid beneath them the cool fabric, settling it so that the runes were central to his forehead. Then, leaning so close that their noses almost brushed, she reached around the back of his head and tied the thing in a simple knot. The long material ends draped down the back of his neck, tangling with the increasingly lengthy locks of gold.

Cool, blushing fingers trailed back along his jawline, tilting the boy's head if he would allow it so that she could survey her work. A smile flirted with silvery maw. "You look rather handsome," Like a rogue, or a mercenary, she thought.

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