#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>
A myriad of conflicting emotions rose to the surface for a moment before the usual rage lit and burned all in one beautiful wild fire. It was fucking ridiculous how she seemed always to run into filth by the clan’s skull-lined borders. But she couldn’t vanquish the sprinkle fear for her young one, though everything she had taught the children was to prevent them to fall into unkind situations. Had she managed to remain objective without the forceful plays on strings of a mother’s heart, she would have thought the kid deserved to suffer consequences for his blatant lack of care.
The absence of weight against her slender back was most prominent now, but she couldn’t go all the way back to the mansion when she moved with the intermingling scents of strangers and the child of her own flesh and blood. Large coyote ears swivelled forward to catch a merry voice that belonged to a stranger. Sharp white teeth glinted in the sparse light of the young evening. Even without her sword, she was deadly. And it was a common saying that nothing was as deadly as a mother protecting her cubs. A distant shuffling of something larger reached her attentive ears, though her steady pace had broken into a swift run.
Darting out from the underbrush, she only had a moment to analyse the scene she was breaking into. A man with his back at her, her son and another luperci. Two wolves, on each side of the child. She didn’t spare any time to think. These were wolves, and they had approached her child in a most peculiar way. They had chosen poorly. How was it that no one understood what the skulls at the borders represented. Death. Halo was unarmed and they weren’t, but seeing her son between them caused instinct to determine her next moves.
With pale, hard snow coating the ground, it was impossible to approach without a sound. So she didn’t. When she was a few steps away from the male, she jumped, aiming a straight kick at his back with the hope to inflict such impact that his spine broke instantly if he was too slow to realize her attack.
Your faith walks on broken glass
[/html]