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As so often, unfortuantely, her mood wasn’t as bright as it could have been. But her mind was forever reluctant to linger with the brighter sides of her existence, and as the latest addition to the clan’s leadership remained relatively fresh, her thoughts curled around that topic, tight and mad like the snake squeezing the mouse’s life. Her lighter fingers could continue to rub against her chest where the anger bubbled under flesh and bone, but she would never be able to soothe that frustrated itch. Wouldn’t Talitha be full of herself now? A traitor sitting on the throne.
There was no more glass shielding the building from elements outside, but the season had turned warm and comfortable and it helped with the natural air-condition in the form of breeze travelling through the building. She caught a glimpse of familiar colouring moving outside, and quickly moved from the steps of the stairs she had come down from to open the door for the approaching Aquila. She had never liked to stand next to her superior when she was in a form giving her twice his height. Her slender muzzle dropped in respect, and she made an effort to smile. For him.
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