Naomi was sick and tired of idleness, of being complacent and letting life wash over her like an icy shower chilling her bones and numbing her mind. Her passion had almost left. But she had separated herself from the pack the last full moon, a few weeks prior to this evening, and she had been re-inspired. Blood had flowed, cries had pierced the night, and Naomi had feasted. And that was when she realized- what was he doing moping when she could be destroying?
Beautiful. Simple. The issue had been so obvious, so apparent, right there in front of her the whole time. Things had been good before, and she thought it was because of Felix, but now she realized- it was blood that made hers boil, it was flesh that made hers tingle, it was howls of pain the fueled her voice. She had to get that back.
So here her pack sat before her, in one of the stone rooms in her basement; her original pack had arrived first, of course. Carlyn, the oldest of the group, slumped in his chair, dragging slowly on his cigarette. Hoover leaned against the wall, rubbing his eyes, trying not to look at Naomi. Nestor paced awkwardly, uncertain of his plans. Colby sat at her right, staring at the women that were not prone to running around with the pack.
The first was Alexis, who Naomi was still not sure of- she seemed too nice to really want blood. Her half sister Victoria showed promise. Rise... well, Naomi wanted her just to spite her perfect, darling brother Ariel. Naomi smiled. "I trust you are well, yes?"