<style type="text/css">
#vesle2 b{color:#000000; font-family:arial, tahoma, sans-serif;}
#vesle2 p, #vesle2 i {line-height:130%; font-family: arial, calibri, sans-serif; color:#1d1d1d;}
</style>
| http://i692.photobucket.com/albums/vv28 ... prite2.png); background-position:top left; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> |
Heh, well... Vesle is no less dickheadish  The creatures she speaks to and I reference are all imaginary WC: 264 Her tail flicke ddangerously - it alternated a high and higher position, as if she was not quite certain, but her head was low where she stood, a message which should be clear enough. The pathetic thing rolled his eyes atop the horse-thing and she merely bared her teeth again at that. She waited patiently as hollow threats rolled off his tongue; his belonging did not matter to her, so long as he just left. Or so she thought. He threatened her with her pack and she still made no motion, until a familiar name rolled off his tongue. She snarled. "I knew I recognized your cursed stench. You murdered my mother!" The tiny female had not been one to consider the dangers of facing an opponent since at least a year from then. She had only her underlings as company - that, and the haunting images of the female whose teeth she now wore around her neck in a charm of good luck. It was no lie; Inferni was directly responsible for her mother's death, a casualty of the Second Dahlian war. Not that Vesle even knew that was its name; she had been just a child then. The gray woman stood ready with sharp claws and a broad stance, taking up as much space as she coud muster. "Filth." She had every intention, then, to kill this worthless pile of bones, muttering under her breath cursewords and insults. How could anyone pride themselves in holding a position in that clan? It was beyond her understanding. She owed all her suffering to them. | http://i692.photobucket.com/albums/vv28 ... prite3.png); background-position:bottom right; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> |