{Angels are Bright Still}

It is a most lovely morning indeed that is given to bring myself from the confines of the pack land and into the lands of the loner wolves this afternoon, the sun a thing most warm upon the snow and russet of my back as my form is given to move with the delicate grace of my bloodline atop the land, paws a silent whisper amongst the long grass as the bubble of water holds upon it the sweet promise of refreshment this day. Even so, it was a thing most unusual that met the violet and emerald of my gaze in these moments as I was given to pause amongst the tree line and rest within the shade of such towering trunks as a male of white and dark is given to wade amongst she cool shallows. For a moment the barest hint of a smile graces my lips with delicate care at the sight of one whom baths at this time, head tilted softly to the side as the thick softness of my fur, the lengthy locks a testament to my own bloodline and the touch of artic wolf that lingers within. It is a tone and colour, that of the snow, that holds amongst near all my relatives, each of us born of the Angel bloodline given to possess the same purity of pelt and delicacy of features and though indeed my sister and I are perhaps given to be famed for our look, I am given indeed to belive it a thing most improper to consider looks above the spirit that rests within. It is a vain thing, I think, to wonder at ones appearance, lovely or otherwise and indeed I am given to hold such thoughts within myself as my gaze rests against the male and his pelt of rainbows as he shakes droplets of liquid into the air an casts rays of colour in their wake. He is being most lovely to look at, I am thinking and yet, so is Heyel, King of Angles and beneath his grin so lovely is�..let us be seeing�.a wolf more cunning then any fox.

It is with this quiet contemplation on looks and the truth of another that I am given to wander softly from the shadows and step within the sun that sets my pelt aglow in soft white gold and sees my form trail forward and towards the other. I do not often step from the borders of my pack, for I am often required to fulfil my role within, yet this day I am given a rare moment of free time, a repose from the duties of my rank and as such I am content to explore it and to wonder indeed as to the nature as to this wolf whom makes rainbows with water and fur. He reminds me, perhaps, of Amir in looks and yet the manner in which he wandered, the way he held himself reminded me entirely of my own true-born brother, Azrael. It was merely curiosity this day that allowed myself to move before him, form kept neutral, curious and yet assured, for it is only natural that I am given to approach with the confidence of my blood in-born. Perhaps I am infamous for my ability to forgive, for my ability to be benevolent and yet for all my patience, perhaps, with others I am also given to stand as no other female before myself has ever done.

�Bene.�

The word rolls so smoothly from my tongue in these moments, head dipping in a nod of respectful greeting, the accent of my words thick and clear, the latina the language of my birth and indeed I do not speak the common tongue near so well as I do the language of Assassins and Angels alike, yet nor do I expect my words to be understood, offering this greeting alone in the tongue of my bloodline before moving to sit near by him, violet eyes resting against his own.

�This is meaning, good afternoon. It has been some time since I is seeing another swim in these waters. Is you being newer to these lands? I do not know your marking, it is being most, how you say? Distinctive?�

I paused in this moment, seeking to assure myself this word had been spoken correctly before I allowed myself to proceed, delicate words once more given to part softly from my lips as the thickened plume of my tail curled about my pose in gentle rest. His marking is being most similar to that of Purge and yet, his eyes are not the same and it is eyes, Heyel says, that tell the truth of blood. I am not thinking he is being a relative and indeed perhaps this is for the better, for Purge had long coveted my own throne. Diveen. I am not a creature born of war nor battle, I find disdain in such things and yet, as I have said, I am unlike any other female within these lands. I have led Diveen to victory in war, I have taken Purge herself within my jaws and forced her to bow before me- for she sort to take what I would not give, no other female holds the power of myself and yet perhaps, with her own pack and the death of the old Spirane, Purge will seek to rise an empire to rival my own. She could not take my throne, so she had taken another. Yet I seek no enemy in her. I will seek audience with her in time- perhaps. Time will tell what will become of the new Spirane and it�s leader. For now- there is peace in Moladion once more, a peace my pack continues to encourage. My attention returns to the white one before me, for I see no reason to speak of packs nor ranks- this is the land of the free, all are equal here and I seek only conversation this day, thus I am given to introduce myself for that which I am outside my empire.

�I is being Isola and I am given to wonder why it is you wander so, is the water displeasing to you?�

I smiled gently once more, allowing a touch of humour to taint my features.

Queen of Diveen || Soul of Sen || Mate of Kane || Mother of 11 ||Heyel x Zeivah

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