Wolfhood: Queen Of Rogues

Chapter 2

Victore shook his head, clearing away such images of the female that was his Elder Broodling. Shoving open the door to go check the neighboring woods victore found  a stack of vibrant orange bags laying next to the trash bags that were already full. Some of the printed jack o lantern's faces grinning at the building while others faced the edge of the clearing. "Nymph! It's barely September!"

    "Better than July! Remember the third year of having Ely around? She was already getting ready for Halloween!" Darius laughs from the left of him, a complaint being lost in two more people joining Darius. Jeff trying but failing to retell the story between gasps of breaths. The drow huffed and shoved the finer dressed man forward into a large pile of leaves near the edge of the slope down. Calmly bending to pick up handfuls of leaves to sprinkle onto the struggling man as if it was an everyday occurrence. A loud yelp leaving her when a hand darts out and yanks her off her feet. An angered Jeff jerking her towards the pile, not bothering to shake the leaves clinging to him, as he went to sit on her stomach. The woman's laughter died away at the serious look in his chestnut eyes. Ely looking to Victore who merely shoved his pockets in his hands and then Darius who inched closer to the two.

The elder more worried about what he was going to do with all the bags after Halloween finally came and went more than the bickering children. Knowing ahead of time that Jeff was to stand and toss her into the pile gently. He kept a close eye on his temper after the first few years around her and was used to Nymph's 'sisterly love'. A bright laugh that would rise in pitch at the plume of leaves that would shoot up into the air and weave graceful paths on down to coat Nymph.

He had never experienced so much stress in his life when raising broodlings, and he had up to seven before, but those two when they were younger made him want to tear his hair out. Stick them in separate rooms. Or send them off to some other place to duke out their differences. The drow was barely turning thirty and Darius his early twenties when he came across Jeff. Carrying a stack of books on Parapsychology in his thin arms as he walked home from his college. Yet, the books he had weren't school issued or found in any library Victore was to note when the college student had approached him. They were few and in between but there were books that told the truth and nothing but the truth.

    Ely inched forward forcing one foot in front of the other after his older brother had stopped laughing and Nymph had yet to stir. "Nymph?"

    She laid perfectly still letting the youngest approach the edge of the pile. Jefferson and Darius alike tensing more with each of his steps closer. Ely had yet to learn a way to live harmoniously with the drow, his naivety leading him on to believe that she would become gentler the longer they knew each other. Even the Ancient shuffled closer, watching over the mound to the roses. Noting the blonde haired boy being thrown over the pile and rolling down the hill, a black mass shooting after within a blink of an eye. "Nymphrodite. Why don't you help Jefferson pin down Darius?" The corner of his lips turned up, already able to imagine the broad man's face light up in.

    As soon as he was once more passed by the rushing female Victore made his way to the curled up boy at the bottom of the mountain. Offering him a hand up only to shove him back down. "Push over." Again the Brood Father offered his hand. Moments later Ely's head once more met the hard earth with a sickening crack. "Coward." Once more he tried, the student being shoved back down before he could even stand this time around after accepting Victore's hand.

    By the time he focused back on the Broodlings Nymph was sitting on Darius' legs while Jeff tried to shove some leaves the man but was pulled over the broad man's chest and got a faceful of the half crushed leaves himself. Nymph rolling off the edge of the pile to avoid being caught in the middle of the ensuing battle. Not bothering to shake the fragments from her hair but patting her jeans and tanktop down. Pausing when a sharp cry rang out  from Jeff before grunting and returning to riding her clothes of the crumbs. Turning her back on the pile to instead stand at the beginning of the slope down. Hands resting on her hips, shoulders squared up while she payed little attention to the whimpering ball of skin.