mall-caps;">IT'S ONLY cript;">FOREVER, NOT LONG AT ALLShe wasn't sure what to reveal to this phantom grandfather. Surely, he knew what he was, and surely it wouldn't matter if she said something truly foolish — she could only go upon what Corona had spoken, after all. She never had the chance to meet the man. She had never truly desired to. As his eyes narrowed, she moved, taking herself around the dark trunk of a dead tree to peer at him from a distance. It would do little if he decided to cause harm to his son's daughter.
How long had it been since she spoke to Corona about the blonde de le Poer? Years. Two, perhaps, for she had been young. While she remembered little of her childhood home, she had clung to the words from her aunt, using them to justify the artist's path she'd walked down. Of course, Corona had not told her niece everything. There was so much she would never learn, unless it came from the horses' mouth.
Her head bobbed in the briefest nod while glass eyes gazed upon him in both curiosity and fear. "She told me that you were an artist. A musician, the violin." Though her own skills in music were limited, with the beaten guitar she played so carefully, she felt a closeness to him on this fact alone. "And she told me that you lived with them, in Inferni, until the Aquila made you leave." Perhaps it had not been an Aquila then, but she knew no other name for the leadership. The smaller details, such as Chimera and his own turn a the reigns of leading, were something she did not need to explain. Corona had told her only the pleasant things, painting the elaborate and beautiful image she had used in place of a living grandfather that — despite her desire for it to be so — was so very false.
Clawed fingers tapped against the rough bark of her hiding place. "She told me you were smart...you taught her things, about art and music." Corona had wished her niece could meet the living man, but it simply wasn't meant to be. Whatever path God was sending her down hadn't allowed for a true meeting between them. Only in the phantasmal world of her sleeping mind.
Her voice quieted as her longing to see her aunt grew. "I can tell she really loves you." It was so clear, and mirrored her own love for Gabriel. Firm and undying regardless of the crimes the men committed.
<style>
.ns01 {margin:0px auto;width:450px;background-color:none;background-image:none;background-position:top middle;background-repeat:no-repeat;border:none;padding:0px;font-family:times new roman, sans-serif;font-size:13px;line-height:16px;letter-spacing:.5px;text-align:justify;margin-top:15px;}
.ns01-ooc {font-style:italic;font-size:11px;margin:2px; padding:0px;text-align:left;}
.ns01 p {text-indent:25px;margin:0px;padding:5px 10px;}
.ns01 b {font-weight:bold;letter-spacing:1px;}
.ns01 i {font-style:italic;letter-spacing:1px;}
</style>
[/html]