Children do not stay young for long in this savage country. There are no toys for them to play with so they work hard and grow wise but this one, so pretty and a little late-comer, had been indulged by her mother and today has the ominous if brilliant look of blood on snow. Her breasts have just begun to swell, her hair is like lint, so fair it hardly makes a shadow on her pale forehead;her cheeks are an emblematic scarlet and white and she just started her woman's bleeding, the clock inside her that will strike, henceforward, once a month, Karin stands and moves within the invisible pentacle of her own virginity. She is an unbroken egg, she is a sealed vessel;Karin has inside her a magic space the entrance which is shut tight with a plug of membrane, she is a closed system;she does not know how to shiver. She has her knife and she is Afraid of nothing. Her brother Ichigo might forbid her, if he knew, but he is away in the forest, gathering wood, and her sister cannot deny her. The forest closed upon her like a pair of jaws. There is always something to look at in the forest, even in the middle of winter-the huddled mourds of birds, succumbed to the lethargy of the season, heaped on the creaking boughs and to forlorn to sing;the bright frills of the winter fungi on the blotched trunks of the trees, the cuneiform slots of rabbits and deer, the herringbone treaks of the birds and a hare as lean as a-rasher of bacon streaking across the path where the thin sunlight dapples the russet brakes of last year's Bracken.
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The Wolf (hitsukarin)
WerewolfOne beast and only one howls in the woods by night. The Wolf is carnivore incarnate and he's as cunning as he is ferocious ;once he's had a taste of flesh then nothing else will do
