[Azuhel]

She called for them and she expected them to answer. Wayward and childish as they were she felt it was of upmost importance to start the education of one’s family young and early, especially considering she needed to lay down the groundwork of inheritance in terms of treasure, cultural significance, and tradition. Bring back the olde, bring back the significance, the power, the aggression, the war, the paranoia… and craft your utopia of bloodlines while keeping the lesser groveling for scraps.

Become the Center of Civilization, while her children and her esteemed because the Cradle of Life.

So, she sat, steady before the tangled Rosebush and the memories that dwelled within them—haunting, soothing, but ultimately ignorable. She had a bit of history to teach and flesh to give them—because she was not going to be hunted down for her milk, not by her own children and definitely not by Shatter’s fat child either.

Within her clasp was a rather large Flemish rabbit, one leg torn asunder while the rest of it’s bulk was pressed upon by Azuhel’s much larger frame. She pet it slightly, rumbling with her chest a gentle tune that held little to no impact on the trembling meat with the wild eyes before her.

Ah well, it wasn’t really her intention to soothe it anyway. Her intention was to lure and teach.

“Quickly now,” she said, “you have much to learn.”

And little time to learn it.