kissing death and loosing my breath

A small groan left the sweet heart lips of one young witch as she rolled over in bed, pulling a pillow on top of her head in a futile attempt to drown out the sun that shone through her window. "It's morning time!" A particularly cheery voice called out to her, his baritone lyrics far more gleeful then Serafina had ever heard him in life. She felt the pillow move, even as she struggled to tighten her grip upon it and soon, it was tossed across the room by an unseen hand, leaving the girl burying her head into her sheets. "Go away." She muttered, grey eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Her head was pounding, more so then it usually should be after the previous night's escapades. Although she innately knew it wasn't just the remnants of the liquor leaving her system, Serafina refused to acknowledge to anyone the underlying cause. She'd hoped maybe it would go away at some point in the middle of the night. She'd hoped maybe the alcohol would blur that connection into oblivious and yet, here she was the next morning suffering all the consequences of her efforts to ignore her actions. It was quite the vicious cycle like that. Slowly, Serafina pulled herself out of bet, not noticing the ice that slowly crept up her windows as she passed. It took surprising amount of effort for the young woman to dress, partially due to the pestering of her ghastly friend. It was at least an hour later when she stepped out of her town house sufficiently medicated with advil and sunglasses hiding her slate grey gaze from an overly stark world.

Her every step was made with purpose, effortlessly following that tug that connected her to the were-lupine. It was easy enough, following that trail, the throb in her head diminishing as the distance between the two fell away. For a moment she'd merely stood on the dock of the Ark, her gaze tracing it's profile behind darkened lenses. A soft breath of air left her lips before the young woman made her way onto the boat. During her youth, Serafina had perfected the art of appearing as if she'd belonged in places that she certainly didn't. It was a part of being homeless, a part of making sure she wasn't chased off. She'd stepped into the dimness of the Ark, her gaze quickly sweeping across the hull as she continued to move without hesitation towards the stairs. The girl paused in the hallway, her eyes tracing the face of the wooden panels that made the halls, somewhat taken back by the almost lavish housing and it's stark contrast to the industrial room she'd only just left. Her head tilted to the side ever so slightly by the sound of voices and slowly Serafina made her way towards the familiar tone. The witch paused within the doorway, catching the tail end of the words Raven spat at their Dark Hunter acquaintance. Her eyebrows knitted ever so slightly as she eyed the pair, her lips pressing together in a hard line. It had been quite some time since she had seen Azrael, since she'd realized that his interest in her had only been as a reminder of some fleeting memory. It had bothered the girl far more then she would have liked to admit, even now. "Not that it matters to anyone," She started, her soprano voice entirely sardonic, "but she's already here, thank you very much."

"Aww, look Serafina, your mongrel mutt is dying. It's a shame, I could have helped but...." The unperceptible male that haunted her offered the young wold a small shrug, one that only she could really see. A small scowl crossed her sweet heart lips, her arms folding over her chest. "That's right, you're dead." She responded with a touch of venom, entirely indifferent to just how mad it might make her seem to speak to nothing but air, "Because my mongrel mutt killed you. So go off fuck in a corner and shut the hell up." She waved to the corner with a flick of her wrist, following him with her eyes before bothering to turn her attention back to situation in front of her. Slowly Serafina stepped away from the door frame, pausing to look down at the two men collapsed on the floor at her feet. "Please tell me this one is your cheating boyfriend. Because I will so fuck that one." She inquired, daring to glance up at her wounded comrade. Despite knowing full well the state of her familiar companion, Serafina gave off an air of hardly being concerned. After all, Azrael the doctor was here to care for her. Her potions were hardly needed and, quite frankly, the woman was equally sore about her so called familiar's absence just as she was the man that stood over her. As the saying goes, hell hath no fury quite like a woman's wrath.