I sing my song because I love, p
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-SLURRRP-

Coexistence required an exuberating amount of effort and restraint; trivial things, such as daytime sleeping patterns, were no more. It was extremely disorienting and unbelievably frustrating to lose customary rights of the sort, but it was for the greater good of it all. Victory was redemption. It was time to make everything right again, as things should have been five years ago, back when believers subsisted. It was her duty, as Azathoth’s sole survivor, to finish what the visionary had begun. She would use whatever means possible to achieve said objective, at the risk of losing everything she possessed; the clan’s women had not been afraid of death, and neither was she.

The madwoman was moving with relentless energy, her strides long and purposeful. Although Cercelee’s departure was well appreciated, she often took the time to scan the borders for any indication of that self-righteous bitch. Reinforcements were unlikely but not impossible, and who was she to overlook such a thing? Dahlia de Mai was not invincible, this she understood. After seeing the vast majority of her beau’s subordinates, Lillith was honestly unimpressed with the lot. They appeared to be reliable though, which somewhat appeased her uncertainties for the time being. A wide variety of emotions had been displayed upon each and every face at the pack meeting; reluctance, devotion, and even hatred in some cases. At first glance, they were completely different from one another. Hopefully, this diversity would come in handy on the front lines.

The Rosen’s followers had spoken of Inferni’s audacity; attacks in broad daylight, luckily none of which had resulted in a fatality. Haku’s sister had come close to fading, which disappointed her to a certain extent. It was all about statistics. A death on their side would inevitably make them the losing team, and such a thing was detrimental to their image.

Her walk took a startling twist when the breeze brought another’s presence to her attention. A male canine, most obviously, but one bearing no commitment to Dahlia de Mai. From there, her pace redirected elsewhere, to the area where she would indisputably encounter this visitor. It hadn’t been evident at first, but as she neared her target, his adherence to the opposing side became decipherable. Although faint, Inferni’s distinct aroma clung to his coat like a bad disease. Instinctively, ebony lips retracted into a snarl, her expression morphing into something akin to disgust. “Maggot,” she hissed accusingly, adopting a predatory approach based solely on territoriality.

Even if the coyote’s back was turned to her, the onyx femme did not immediately initiate an attack. He would look into her eyes and see her for what she was. Her limbs were bent, ready to propel the entirety of her weight against the imprudent fool.



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