A breeze brushed past, teasing the egyptian silk tendrils that cascaded over her slender, chiseled visage as she listened carefully to her brother words. The bronze-kissed mistress looked as if the muscles of her visage had gone on strike. Everything about it was slack and it gave her the aura of one who would spurn even the most well meaning attempts. Even her shoulders drooped when the boy mentioned their father. She was used to it, of course, however all of the siblings she had met so far were older than this boy, older than Toth. Happiness seemed to be a luxury for the Ithuriels and any one that shared their blood appearing to be an emotional shade above anger were regarded with cynicism. They sometimes seemed to live in that stupor of unhappiness, a state in which nothing unnerved anyone faster than a genuine smile. And what soiled her mood even more was the youth of this boy that called himself her brother. It happened to all of us, child. a faint smile spread across her maw, bushy tail attempting to brush his front, right paw. Do not let it define you. He is not worth your pain or even your hatred. her words reassuring, she attempted to brush her cheek along side his own We are better than that. Better than them. Forget their Empire, they never wanted us there. We could easily build out own if we so wanted.
Speech
Warning: this is a mature themed character. She has a 20" caracal by the name of Alphonse. It shall be presumed that he is with her all the time unless stated otherwise.Ithuriels, Hannibal and her pups are allowed to crash her threads regardless of the tag!
