09-08-2009, 01:47 PM
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ANGRY GABE IS ANGRY He had not known that Fatin had intended to return, least of all to Inferni. Gabriel was very much in the dark about the russet woman’s relationship with his mother, and this was indeed how he had spent most of his life. What his family did behind closed doors (or outside of his eyes) was their business. He overlooked Samael’s curious sexual discrepancies. He turned a blind eye to the terrible things that Hybrid did. Were he not to do so, he would know that terrible truth and be responsible for such things. This was not his burden; adults were not his responsibility unless their lives, or Inferni’s livelihood, was threatened. That was why when he smelt blood, he began to run. Then he smelled them; Fatin and his mother. No other scents. One of them was hurt, and he doubted it was the latter. Gabriel found his scarred mother cradling the auburn woman, and he froze in his tracks. Fatin was broken, she was covered in scars, burnt, abused. Deep in his chest something began to burn, and soon fire rushed through his blood and set it on fire. His fur stood on end, his face twisted into a gargoyle’s grimace, and as his teeth parted a terrible dragon’s breath barreled from his throat. He could not think of any words. To him, Fatin was a surrogate mother—just as she had been to his son. To see her this way was unforgivable. He did not speak, and his eyes went remarkably hollow. He wanted a name. He wanted a scent. He wanted blood and another skull to display. He could not say this yet, though. The only sound that came from him was that terrible growl, rising like a tsunami from his chest. |