quite eradicated
The grizzled woman on the porch was a relic; she belonged to Inferni as much as their blood belonged to her. Ezekiel could see the heredity within the red streak along so many faces, his own included. Between all of her offspring, and their children, some traits were obvious. It was through this observation that he had begun to learn of true heredity—he had known of the spiritual part of the word, well aware of what sort of demons passed through from one generation to another. Ghosts. They were made up of ghosts, all of them, and Kaena alone remained as a testament to prove such a thing was true.
Ibsen found great amusement in mocking Ezekiel, even if the golden hybrid was the only one who understood him. His bellowing caw pronounced a formal title for the Aquila, though it was taken in stride—after all, so few spoke his tongue that it did not bother the scarred man’s pride. A well-tempered snort escaped him as he neared and saw the two women he had come looking for.
The leader dismounted out of respect for their eldest member and smiled at her joke. It was, for once, an honest thing. “He might as well be a majordomo at this rate, eh?” Turning to his horse, Ezekiel made a low whinnying sound and gestured slightly with one hand. It was a stay command, and once Viggo was used to. “Are you two ready? We can get through the mountain before dark. I’ve gathered a few things to keep us warm…I hope you don’t mind riding with them,” he added with a glance to Kaena. It was a polite way to express his concern; while her age certainly restricted her in many ways and made her susceptible to the cold, he would not be so uncouth as to announce this publicly.
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