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Pale whiskers pulled back along her narrow, coyote-styled muzzle, wrinkled and disapproving in every fashion. Ivory teeth flinted like they wished to dig into the warm flesh beneath the latte fur of the other’s, but along with her ripening age, Halo had steadily moved away from such savageness. This female’s blood was not worthy of leaving its lingering taste of filth upon her tongue. It was one of many reasons why she adored the katana strapped onto her back. She didn’t have to dig in with teeth and claws, only her beautiful, sharpened blade.
”Leave now or face the consequences,” the woman breathed, and it was a promise. There were alternative ways to get back at a lowly trickster, and perhaps taking on this in a different manner would be good for her. The woman’s hand reached up and over her shoulder, settling on the dark, glossy handle of a weapon that was nothing short of beautiful. If the girl desired to be a fool for no reason, then the Lykoi could not deny her that, but she was a creature that held long-lasting grudge.
The weapon leaped forth over her shoulder and swung down to linger as an extended part of the woman’s hand along her curvy side. It probably wouldn’t be used today, but the silent threat was always something, even if this filth was unable to treat the scene seriously. Some individuals never grew past the puppy stage of life, and it was this stranger’s parents she resented for allowing her to live despite the obvious issues that were now on display.
Your faith walks on broken glass
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