Blackfeather Woods I am the child of an ugly star

[table][tr][td valign=center] [/td][td]

Astrid was unlike Nemesis in many ways, but both felt emotions passionately; Astrid of Lust and Nemesis of Rage. While Nemesis would never become the flirty thing to use her sex as a weapon, Astrid was sure to become just as malevolently unstable as she was her mother, to Nemesis' beleif. It was inevitable, and as she caught the scent of the child that had weighed little on her thoughts in recent times, it was Astrid that filled them. She moved to intervene her daughter's course, silently, but unable to ignore the weight of heavy emotion that hung in the balance of the air that circulated around them. It puzzled her, and she was only left to speculate as to what brought on such feelings, feelings other than teenage angst. True, she had not effectively paid her attention to her child's emotional state, for she remained unaware of all that transpired between Damien and Astrid to date. Had she, their situation would have been approached entirely differently and with much more tension. Instead, she moved nose her daughter's cheek as their proximity closened, “What is the matter my girl, hm?” She inquired, a coo, a voice calm amiss the storm, for above all else did she love her daughter the most. Atshen was a soilder, and Abraxas, her Raven; but her love for them was unlike the love she held for her only surviving daughter, for that love was pure. In everyone else, there was something else riddled in the affection she held for them, something of benefit to her, something that otherwise tainted what love truly meant, had it not been for the fact that they were her children and never could she truly forsake the maternal emotion she felt for them. But un-questionably, Astrid held a different place within her soul, and God save the man who dared to hurt her child.

[/td][td valign=center] [/td][/tr][/table]