[open] I could make it better for you

[Livinia]

l i v i n i a such is life, such is death. She watches Niklas curiously - watches the familiar curl of shadows as they wrap around him. Aside from her twin and her parents, Livinia has had little relationship with others in her family though she knew that many lurked in Beqanna’s shadows. The tiniest of thrills runs though her her at this discovery.  “Of course she does,” she replies - her voice just as cold as their mother’s.  But there is so much more life in Livinia’s eyes. And something burns in her crimson gaze.  But her unbeating heart twists in her chest. That want for maternal affection. For respect. She burned with it, knowing that she would likely ever be in the shadow of her twin. But she was determined to carve out her place at Jamie’s side, small as it may be. She wasn’t sure the shadowmare was even capable of true affection, but that didn’t quell her want.  Isn’t that what every child wanted, deep down? That unconditional love and acceptance?  Isn’t that what Livinia was too terrified to admit that she craved - be it from her mother or someone else who would offer it to her. Her attention is diverted by the child, seemingly unhappy at how the conversation has unfolded. Liv says nothing. She simply laughs - a hollow, lilting sound. She can’t help but laugh at the sheer absurdity of the tiny temper tantrum.  Oh, to be young and naive.  Livinia never had the luxury of pouting when she didn’t get what she wanted - that wasn’t the type of childhood she had lived.  And she doubted this child could comprehend the world that the woman of smoke and shadow had been born into.  She wasn’t here to babysit, so she said nothing. Livinia had thicker skin than to be ruffled by a pouty child. That didn’t make the situation any less amusing. She steers the conversation back towards the wolves - towards the hunt.  Though she leaves out how much she wants to run with his Wolfpack. She’s hunted as a feline but never as a pack, and she’s intrigued with the concept.  It stirs something in her - something she normally fights to keep hidden.  Another smile pulls at her lips at his aversion to meat. Livinia, too, has never found it palatable.  Blood is the only thing that sustains her. Not flesh. Not water. Not flora. Only blood. “I imagine hunting with a pack is quite something,” she says, and the mirth again flickers in her crimson eyes, “You’ll have to show me sometime.”

Drawing Credit


@[Niklas]