This thread is for Kisu and Strawberry Kitkat to post in only. Thank you.

xXXXx

Rebecca leaned casually against a lamp post, cupping her pale hands to her face and blowing air on them. It was more for the benefit of the humans around her then to actually keep her hands warm- things like cold and heat hadn't bothered her for a long, long time. She was waiting for her informant on the movements of the werewolves- they were getting uncomfortably close, and her master didn't like it. As third-in-command, Rebecca had to keep an eye on these things.

She looked up as a sleek, slim pod pulled up in front of her, the passenger door sliding up. Inside was Zeke- her informant, a fresh convert of her master's. "Hey Becca," he said, giving her a grin from behind dark shades.

"Zeke," she acknowledged, leaning against the door frame. "You have my information?" Zeke nodded, holding a file out to her. She pushed dark red hair out of her eyes as she reached for it, then frowned as he held it just out of reach.

"Read it somewhere discreet," he said, then grinned at her again. "It's for your eyes only, baby." Rebecca sighed, rolling her eyes- it was like Zeke to flirt with her every chance he got. He handed her the file, a plain, nondescript manila folder.

"Get out of here," she said, stepping away from the pod. "I'll see you later." Zeke nodded as the door closed, then took off through the busy city. Rebecca watched his taillights fade, then turned and headed back to her "apartment." she needed to sort through the new information in peace.

They had seen her, or at least one of them had, a small, brown wolf. Rebecca followed after her a few seconds after the small wolf had taken off, figuring she'd have to go to them. She didn't have time to stand at the edge of the woods for forever. She ducked under branches and stepped around bushes, glad that she'd worn her boots to protect her legs. Rebecca cursed as a branch caught at her hair and tore a few strands out- she was short, standing at only 5'3", but the branches were low enough to be a nuisance.

She wasn't sure how to handle the situation- something like this had never happened during her time as Commandant en troisieme, although she'd only been third for a few decades. It had happened once, when she was younger, but she'd been too young to have any participation in things. Of course, most thought Rebecca was too young for her position.

In a vampire coven, there were rings of power, and ranks were determined by age and power. the old third, a vampire by the name of Louis, had passed away when Rebecca was younger (the method of death was best left alone- it had been nasty, to say the least.) There had been a power gap, and many vampires had struggled for the position- but in the end, it had been given to Rebecca. Of all the vampires up for consideration, she had been "special", favoured by her master. Of course, the second in command, Allistair, wasn't happy about it, and hated Rebecca with a passion.

She followed the scent of the wolves to a place where the smell was almost overwhelmingly strong. She didn't know what it was, but the smell of wolf was so weird. Some of the other vampires couldn't stand it, said it blocked up their airways. For Rebecca, it was more just a heavy, unpleasant scent, but one she could handle.

She paused at the edge, shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably. How did she approach this? "Hello," she called out questioningly. She took a deep, cold breath to settle her beating heart, searching the darkness for the wolves. "I've come to speak with the apha."

[oh gosh, I'm sorry, it's so short D:]

The air seemed to sizzle as the situation quickly grew tense. Rebecca held her ground, the chorus of growls causing her to bare her fangs slightly. She shook her head, reminding herself that she had to play nice. Her master did not want any kind of war started right now.

"I don't know his terms," she said, her voice cool. "You may stay, if you please. But I can offer you no security. My people would not hesitate to kill you." It was no kind of threat, just a quiet, calm guarantee. Vampires went through phases that followed the moon closely. Each had a certain period of time where they suffered from terrible rage and bloodlust, and would kill anything and anyone if not cared for properly. Each vamp had a different way of coping- Rebecca locked herself in a reinforced chamber until the time passed. She knew her master would never permit it, but she could see Allistair considering the wolves a great target for the blood-raged vampires. She pursed her lips, watching Damien with careful eyes. She looked young and vulnerable next to him- not only was she shorter, but she had "died" in her late teens, and still had the pale glow of youth about her.

As she studied him, she noticed there was something increasingly wrong about this picture. Damien didn't smell... well, like a leader. He smelled like a strong, fit male, but he lacked a certain... essence. His being didn't say "alpha" to her, although he could certainly pass for the part.

She eyed him coolly, debating on calling him out on a bluff. If she was wrong (and she didn't know enough about wolves to ensure she was right), they could kill her then and there. She wouldn't fight them, not to kill anyways. And she had the feeling she'd have to kill to escape. She settled for giving him a hard look, then tucked her hands into her coat pockets and scuffed her toes along the dirt as she waited patiently for him to speak. It was something her master had taught her- let your enemy speak, and give away no more then necessary.

Rebecca only shrugged again. "I am only the messenger," she said simply.

She watched Damien carefully, studying him with critical eyes. The other wolves had dispersed, acting as if she weren't there anymore. "You can't come with me dressed like that," she finally said. It would make people suspicious, to say the least, and one never knew when a hunter was lurking about (although the view was nice.) "Do you have something you can wear into the city? I only live on the edge of town, but there'll be enough people around to notice anything out of place."

Rebecca had to force herself not to fidget; she wanted to get going, away from the overwhelming scent of earth and wolf. She was still young enough that time still had some meaning to her.

Rebecca gave him a droll stair, wrinkling her nose at the word lair. It made her think of a dungeon, which she certainly did not live in. "Don't worry yourself too much, wolf boy," she said coolly, one eyebrow raised. "I promise there won't be any bats to eat you."

She waited patiently as he went to go change, returning in normal clothes. She noticed how odd his hair was- such a weird blonde, almost enough to hurt her eyes. She looked him over and nodded approvingly, motioning for him to follow. She couldn't help a laugh at his words, pushing her hair out of her eyes.

"We're not hunters," she pointed out, rolling her eyes. "Besides, I can't bring you to the main house yet. You'll just be coming to my apartment until I can get ahold of my master and inform him of the situation." She was still trying to figure out what she would say to the master; the biggest problem was avoiding Allistair. She glanced back at him, eyeing him carefully. "I can promise my people won't try and drink from you," she said. Then, a small, amused smile curved her full lips. "None of us want to asfixiate ourselves on the stench." Of course, she wasn't sure what it was like to drink wolf blood, but one of the vampires (one who had been executed shortly after) had told her that wolf's blood was the worst thing to drink. She supposed it depended on preference.

She led him through the woods, which slowly bled into city- the streets were quiet at this time of night, most humans in a deep sleep or inside clubs and drinking way too much alcohol (she hated what alcoholic blood did to her.) "Where do you come from," she finally asked, to dispense the awkward silence that seemed to press against her skin like a cat eager for loving.

Rebecca tucked her hands into her coat pockets, listening to him talk as they went. She'd never been up north; in fact, she'd never been out of the city. She was sure that, at some point, she'd lived outside of it- once, a long time ago. But it would have have to have been before she had been changed, which had happened in this very city. Vampires didn't remember anything from their mortal lives once they had been changed; as time passed, they'd remember bits and pieces, but their mortal lives would, for the most part, remain a mystery.

She pursed her lips, listening to his story. The alpha female had come down after giving birth? She wondered how the pups had made it. She'd never known any sort of baby so young, even an immortal one, to be able to travel so far for so long. Part of her didn't believe that he was really the alpha male and thus mated to Sheila, but the other part of her believed he was, and was slightly jealous. Vampires couldn't mate, for the most part. Only masters of the city could mate with another vampire; of course, half-breeds could be born if a vampire mated with any other species, but they were usually rejected by both societies and, in some cases, killed by the council.

She looked up at his question, raising one eyebrow. She knew she shouldn't tell him anything, but something urged the words out before she could stop herself. "Well, the Master is... kinder then most," she began slowly. "He was the one who...." she paused, hesitantly lifting one hand to her neck and touching a tender spot. It was a recent memory that had cropped up, and one very rare for vampires to experience- the moment she had been turned. She couldn't remember what she had been doing, or who the people she had been with were, but she could remember the Master finding her, and changing her.

She cringed slightly at the memory, the feelings of his fangs sinking into her neck, of the burning pain. "Anyways," she said, snapping herself out of the memory. "He... ah, he would consider your request, for sure." She couldn't guarantee anything he would say; the master was mysterious, even to her. The person who knew him best was probably High Council Member Victoria. The rumor was she was his mother.

"Well, we're here," she said, as they approached her apartment. She fished her keys out of her pocket, sliding them into the door and unlocking it. She pushed it open, then easily stepped over the threshold. "Elevator, or stairs," she asked, looking over her shoulder at him as she pocketed her keys.

Rebecca chewed on her lip, considering the question. Had she? She couldn't even remember. "I'm not sure," she admitted quietly. "I don't even remember that night..." She shook her head, trying to clear her mind. The past was the past, right? There was no changing it. But nothing she told herself could chase away the doubtful, melancholy look on her face.

"Alright, stairs it is," she said, taking the lead. She sighed, shaking her head. "It's so much more complicated then that," she told him, as they went up three flights of stairs. The flat heels of her boots tapped against the floor smartly as she turned up a landing. "We're enemies, remember?" She was silent for a moment, deep in thought. "And more creatures will draw more hunters, which is a danger to our coven. Unlike you, we can't just pick up and run. We can't even begin to survive in the wilderness."

They soon reached her floor, going down to her apartment. "Make yourself comfortable," she said, opening the door and stepping inside. She pulled off her boots and shrugged out of her jacket, leaving her in a skirt, tights, and a thin long-sleeved shirt. "I'll see if my Master is in." She picked up the phone and went to the window, pulling back the thick curtain and looking out at the city as she hit the speed dial. She pressed the phone to her ear, waiting patiently as the phone rang.