The day was very young, but as always, the warrior of Inferni rose before the golden globe, and it was not at all too early for the clan’s Triarii to wander about, stretching her legs and breathing the frosted air. It always had a sweet taste of morning dew, she thought. There was a comforting calm to be found at this hour that was special to her, magic sparkling in the absence of the awakened world. The borders remained abandoned, just how she preferred it to be. Or perhaps not. But that was no trespasser seated along the lines of weather worn skulls. Halo could not claim that she knew this girl personally, but she definitely knew of her.
One of the hippie children; a cousin. It was good to be related to the majority of the clan, though there was so many that should not have the right to call themselves Lykois. Oh well, there was so little that could be done with the filth. Her own son had fallen deep and his mother hoped that she would never get to see the male again. This young girl with the blushing maw, was she worthy of the royal blue hue running through her young veins? The warrior’s face did not twist into unpleasant lines as it so often did. No, for once she felt only curious. The clan would never be exactly how she wished it to, and it was about time she could make an effort in getting to know the clan’s members before judging.
”You are Raziekel’s daughter, are you not?” she asked, cream painted fingers gently brushing soft auburn locks from her face.