#halosimple {width:440px; padding:10px; margin:auto; text-align:justify; background-image:url(http://dl.dropbox.com/u/5697571/lykoistar10.png); background-position:center; background-repeat:no-repeat;}
#halosimple .ooc {text-align:right; font-family: times new roman, helvetica, sans-serif; font-style:italic; line-height:1.2em;}
#halosimple p {text-align:justify; line-height:1.5em; text-indent:30px;}
#halosimple .bottom {text-align:right; font-family: times new roman, helvetica, sans-serif;}
#halosimple .bottom p {line-height:1.5em; margin:0px;text-align:right; line-height:1.2em; }
#halosimple .name {font-family: 'Calligraffitti', arial, serif; font-size:32px; line-height:1.5em; }
</style>
The sway in her back was more prominent than she thought it had ever been, but it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. Halo had almost always taken good care of her body, and it really helped lessening common complications. Of course, life wasn’t perfect--she loathed being unable to move around freely like before, but she was carrying on precious treasures along with her, and it was wonderful.
The scent of death was gone from her room, thankfully, and these days she kept herself busy rearranging her room. There was no way she would shuffle around with the larger furniture, but she had acquired a lot of items over the last years, and had sort of just let them lie around. The woman had been egoistic enough to raid many rooms when she first moved into the mansion and had it all to herself, and she was generally good at saving the furs and skins from the majority of her meals. In other words, she didn’t lack old quilts and warm pelts.
Yes, there were even a few wolf pelts tucked into the pile of furs. It was so wrong, but that was probably what made her love them the most. They offered fond memories. Oh, how she wondered how Symera would treat the puppies when they arrived. The girl wasn’t her flesh and blood, but it was the first child she had developed actual affection for. Of course, she had loved her only son as well, but it was a mother’s instinctual love and little more.
The door to her bedroom was open, but she didn’t think much about it. Members knew that she was an unpleasant individual, and few ever bothered to interrupt her anyway. The woman was sat down at the bed, going through pale pink and bleached white bones from various, lesser animals. She had much more--she definitely had an unhealthy adoration for bones--stocked up in her locked closet. She really had to start making more jewelery.
Your faith walks on broken glass
[/html]