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Oh, what would the golden Aquila think of them now? Lips withdrew and showed her teeth as she thought of how her leader would have dealt with the situation if he had been here. But Halo didn’t know Ezekiel, and she had no interest in establishing stronger bonds with a traitor such as he. It was only his blood that had permitted him to rejoin this clan again, and rise to the rank of King. Gabriel had been a worthy being to follow without question, but Ezekiel was not his father, and she couldn’t bury the hatchet.
The girl’s presence prevented thoughts from drifting. ”It’s always nice with warm furs when winter comes,” the adult simply answered. After the snowstorm early this year, the mansion didn’t have a single window intact, and the inhabitants of the building had been forced to be creative. Halo had covered up her bedroom window with wooden planks and stuck moss to eliminate remaining paths the insistent breeze could have found. But ah, how she loved her own little place, and how she loved her furs and bones. Perhaps this dead beast’s skin would decorate her wall. Or perhaps the floor was more fitting, so that he would always be stepped on, even in death.
Her muscles were worn and her body warm when she was done with cutting and ripping the skin from the dead wolf, but when she was done, she rolled the fur together and put it over her shoulder. Smaller predators could feast on the remains. The red eyed woman turned only back to spit at the dead, before she waved the girl along. It was time to go home.
Your faith walks on broken glass