I know that my son and daughter are meant to clash in some way. They both are dominant in nature, and in the end they will have to sort out their issues among themselves. I do not foresee them getting along the rest of their lives, although a part of me wishes they would work as one. We could work as four, four limbs of my very soul to conquer all. I know that they all must count on only themselves, and yet they are of me, and in essence we are one. My copper eyes watch as my son's jaws clamp is irritation, knowing that Ayal is surely getting on his nerves.

He speaks, and asks me what of pack, if he should attack them to let them know of his superiority. I only watch him at first, taking in the expression on his face as I leave mine almost completely void and dead. He smiles, a grin toothy and I almost find it...cute on my own child, and yet most of me detests this social construct, at least when it is not used properly. Ayal speaks before me though, interjecting with her own thoughts and she does indeed bring up a valid point. Of course, she is my daughter brought up in my image, and yet neither of them think beyond surface. I clear my throat as I lift my blackened head, beautiful and yet terrifying all the same. I demand silence when I speak, with the way my copper eyes fleck with blue stare upon them both in my very own dominance over the two, my children.

"Eden Ayal, cogitare ultra. Et scient magnitudinis tuae, sed tu consilium ante. Sarcinis prosit tibi potest. Memini, et semper adiuvat uti. Subscribere videtur quod non opus est melius, ut potius in suis cogitationibus tuis non sint, nam vos estis mihi, et aliter."
(Eden, Ayal, think beyond. They will know of your greatness, but you must plan ahead. Pack, can be of an advantage to you. Remember, to always find an advantage and use it. You do not need to subscribe to what they think is better, in order to be better, for their thoughts, are likely not as yours are, for you are of me, and we think differently.)

My voice is strong, commanding and yet I am capable of holding such a ring to my voice that it traps others in like a siren in the depths of the ocean. My eyes snap over though, a white form in the distance coming over to me. Heyel. I know his form anywhere. I had mostly spent my time with the older male in my youth, for my mother had died in the meteor as she deserved. He raised me and I know that face anywhere, it is the same face that now reflects in Anselm's. The white male, aging with time, comes forth and I keep my eyes locked upon him. So now he dare come see my children? His children? Fine. Let them see him, and let them wonder. I will not lie to them if they ask me if he is their father. Lucky for him, they have not gotten curious enough to be that specific. I narrow my eyes slightly as his snowy white frame comes forth, and I can notice the age touching his body in ways it had not before. Unfortunate, but maybe my eyes are just sharp with criticism.

His tail grazes my side and I raise my lip to expose a single tooth, a warning of sorts for he better not go to far on me. I am indeed a female, and I do indeed have a certain drive that is starting to burn inside of me. The same one that drove me to get the blood of angels into my very children. I would not hesitate to do it again, to build my very own army to destroy the unworthy. I know it will not be this year though, no, but I will have to see about the next. He seats himself before me, and my head just barely tips, my blackness a contrast to the now whitening backdrop of winter. He speaks, mocking about my untouched form but I know indeed that he is impressed. I wonder if he questions his choice in mates this day, seeing my blood touched, yet unharmed form sitting before him in utter perfection after a war. I blink, giving my typical narrowed eyes with my otherwise blank expression. I ignore his smile, and I only stare as he speaks once more, about the casualties of war and the bloodshed on the field. It is then that a small fire is lit in my copper eyes, the blue flecks seeming to be sparkles as my mind seethes over the events past. There is a bit more venom in my voice this time, mixed in with the typical honey and clovers.

"Sanguinem tetigit ego indignus sum ego? Cara Heyel esset mortuus daemonia vobis super cachinnant si non servatis unum malina pretioso. HEJA, audieritis me recta, concitaverint se in caput tuum percussorem meum inter me et scopum recte sicut fuit occidere eam, ut intraret ad adjuvandum me annunciantes ei de Insula uti paulo daemonium amicum fugerunt. Dic, Heyel, cura tibi est? HM? Maybe suspiciosum? Ego iustus scidit hoc daemon puellae rostrum, scidit FRUSTUM de collum eius, et facies eius erat ut tardius caesosque ad mortem malina statuisse dentes meos pro tollitis in scapula. Non placet mihi, et ego non impressa.
"
(I am touched with the blood of the unworthy, am I not? Dear Heyel, there would be dead demons for you to giggle over if your precious Malina hadn't saved one. Oh yes, you hear me correctly, your head assassin flung herself in between me and my target right as I was about to kill her, telling me to to go help Isola as her little demon friend ran away. Tell me, Heyel, is that of any interest to you? Hm? Suspicious maybe? I had just ripped this demon girl's muzzle, tore a chunk of her neck, and was about to make her slowly bleed to death when Malina decided to let my fangs rip into her shoulder instead. I am not pleased, nor am I impressed.)

I say firmly, my voice spitting words at the mentioning of Malina's...well, honestly it is treason, what she did. She preventing me from doing my job, and performing my desire to cause pain and suffering to the unworthy scum that litter the earth. I keep my eyes upon Heyel, watching carefully for his expression. If I see for one second that he is pleased with Malina, that he approves of her actions or makes excuses for her. I will not tolerate bullshit. I will not tolerate what Malina has done, and I am not sure where she lies on my approval list anymore. There are very, very few who gain any sort of sliver of approval from me, and she may have well lost it.

Heyel decides to speak to my children, the first time he had ever spoken to them. I am still angered, frustrated by the actions of Malina and knowing that I cannot touch her or punish her, yet, without some sort of retribution from the pack. This displeases me, as I watch him talk to Eden and then Ayal. My eyes follow down to my children, both of them pretty displeased at Heyel's words, as they probably should be. Their grandparents died pathetically in a meteor. Who cares about them. I cannot help but smirk slightly at their answers, and nod slightly to each one in approval.

"Ambo sumus nos, sed etiam yourselvse. Id est, qui rebus omnibus."
(Both of you, are as I, but also as yourselvse. That is all that matters.)

I speak still firmly as my eyes shift over once more, to the son of white, who takes after his father. Anselm stares at Heyel, and he stares with a stare I know well. He thinks, my Anselm does, just as my other do. They are all intelligent, and yet I see a gleam in his violet and orange eyes, and I can feel that he will speak at any moment. When he does, I am not surprised at his words. I know. Die. I almost laugh in this moment, pleased to know that my son wants answers. I know what he wishes to know, as I told him he would only know of his father once he dies. Too bad, Heyel isn't about to fall over and die of old age yet. I merely lift a brow, my muzzle turning back to Heyel as I then await for his reaction.

"Bene? Sed non morieris tu? Vult scire, tu scis."
(Well? Are you going to die yet or not? He wants to know, you know.)

I say, in support of my child. Even Eden seems eager to see this death occur. I turn to look at my daughter, a source of pride swelling in my form as I see her in all of her beauty. It is one thing I do not hide well, my pride for my daughter. I can tell she is bit more irritated, and if I know my daughter, it is because she doesn't know all. Yes, my daughter, it is an irritating thing, but one day, we shall know all. Yes we shall.