--|(\/)| Death before my eyes --->
Imhotep lounged in his chair by the fire. A large goblet in his hand, resting against the arm of the chair. His red eyes reflected the fire blazing in the fireplace, casting shadows around him.
Even though it was the middle of the night, he had the heavy curtains pulled closed and no lights were on.
He took a sip of the red liquid. Weather is was red wine or blood, only he knew.
The Elder was lost in thought, pondering all the goings on in New Orleans, as well as the going on in his own clans. He had been away for a few years, and coming back he learned of the exile of Luka from his clan.
The Gãinã's we're starting to get too picky for his liking, kicking out their members when the weren't very many of them left.
He sipped again. He would have to keep his eyes on the stray, Kei.
As well as the damned Bomboanã's!! They were becoming to bold. Arwen had harassed him the moment he came back about the attacks on her Lycan's from them.
He growled lightly, and finished off his drink, setting the cup down on the ground he stood up and walked over to the window, his heels clicking as he did so. He opened the curtains and looked out onto the grounds of his manor.
<----- lying next to me I fear --|(/\)|--
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