Sorry for the wait!
She had yet to come to terms with her father's indescretions, and it pushed her to return to simple pleasures of the past. Anything to keep her from having to deal with the men she had once loved blindly. The russet princess had left Inferni early in the hopes to get some air; while she might have disappeared into the mountains on a normal day, this one was made for purpose. Dainty feet carried her across the forest known now in the mind of the Lykoi as 'deadwood', for the wreckage of the snowstorm gave it the most eerie feeling. She was in search of the city. Halifax.
Cleaning the bones of a corpse was difficult. She needed a knife, and she needed new paints, and hopefully she could carry it home with the injuries to her body in play. About her neck, tarnished silver glimmer in the sunlight; whatever creature had once owned the strange necklace found upon the islands was watching over her, she was sure of it. How else had she survived the fight with the dead-again Andrezej? A frail body did no good against masculine musculature. Still, she stood. She had killed him. And she was proud.
The bridges marked the point in the world where she would find what was necessary. Her speed increased. She wanted to get home before someone else snatched the dismembered body away. Internally, she thought of what was necessary for her project to continue. Wire, a knife, cutters, paint. A bag to hold it all. So many supplies were necessary to improve the borders of Inferni with once-living sculpture of the wolf kind. Before, there had only been skulls. She would make it better.
As she passed walls and buildings, she heard a shout of anger, a curse word most commonly heard from her disowned Holocaust uncle. The female paused, eyes turning toward the sound and followed by black-rimmed ears. It wasn't in her nature to be concerned for strangers, but she could be curious; after all, it was a dog-eat-dog world, but knowledge was power. Wary posture overtaking a confident stance, she sought the source. It didn't take long. A fresh female scent on the air lead her to a silver creature, frail as she, with a scarf so similar to her doggish lover's. Another smell co-mingled on the air, one familiar but strange all the same.
Crossing her arms, irritated that her curiosity had pulled her from such an important task. "Shut up. The world doesn't want to hear your complaints." The words were bitter, soft and angry. Though she did not like wolves on principle, she had never been so rude to a stranger before; perhaps her own isecurities were flaring forth in the form of rage.
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