Be sober, be vigilant
10-26-2018, 12:45 PM
They had all left her, abandoned her to her own devices, and Marek had the gall to flash jealousy at her. The demonic woman stared at her brother knowingly, guessing he had scented Archon and perhaps Abaven still in her pelt. Archon would stand out more, as she spent the most time with him. She was also aware that she hadn't actively hunted another wolf in ages, and none of her family remained in her pelt. There wasn't a word spoken about it however, and Dea listened as Marek took the bait. Her brothers would be excellent distractions, though he would not be distracted long. She said nothing on the subject of fratricide, having no care for the younger siblings, just as none of her family had a care for her. As he moved from the rock he had perched himself on, Dea realized just how big her brother had gotten. While he didn't exactly tower over her, it did make her feel small somehow. There was no intimidation, just that she felt as though she lacked something. Her throat closed as she stifled a growl for making her feel inferior, though she showed no sign of the war within herself. She was a demonic goddess born from the Asmodeus line, and she hated feeling smaller than anyone, even her oversized brother. The demon's words to his sister almost had her fall for the bait he cast, though she was smarter than that by now. "I do hunt him, though...I do not plan to consume him. He is...useful to me. And off limits. I gave you our brothers, but he is mine." He dug his nose into her pelt then, just as quickly, he pulled away to ask another question. She was unsure of how to answer, her family had abandoned her and so she had abandoned their teachings in lieu of better advice. Her new God called for her, but she could never tell Marek that. "I still have my bite, but I do not strictly adhere to the family ways. All of you abandoned me, left without a word. Mother is gone, father has disappeared, you and Zeivah left me, and I never even saw our brothers. Why would I keep our ways when it was so easy to see they wouldn't keep me?" She scoffed softly, though it was a sound born from pain and not derisiveness. It was all she could do not to snap at her brother, all that anger boiling up to the surface. God had thrown Marek at her as a reminder of why she left, she was sure of it. "How is Zeivah?" Dea asked, wanting to change the subject before her carefully placed mask broke under the weight of her anger. While she was angry with them for leaving, Dea cared about them still. She had worried endlessly and searched for them for a year before she had to give up or die. The she-devil knew she was stronger for that, but she harbored a deep, festering wound about it. Walk, "Talk" Think |
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