Béatrix’ eyes widened in surprise at the outburst, mentally taking note of it. The wolf bitch seemed to think she had some kind of authority here, indicating that she was probably old and alpha material. [i]Maybe even old enough to be the one…[/i] Trixy thought with a snarl hidden behind her calm eyes. 

The shewolf also had little control over her emotions, and was obviously more animalistic than anything else. [i]Tisk, tisk… not a good trait to have in battle[/i], Trixy thought idly. Yet another screamingly obvious fact that arose from all this was that Lupa had a deep hatred for the undead. The humans [i]would[/i] be the ones to think this kind of a mixed operation was possible… but this was a racism deeper than any they had ever known. Hell, it is etched deep in our very biology; couldn’t those human scientists have figured that out?

Trixy relaxed against her chair and put her hands in the pockets of her fitted leather jacket, the perfect picture of calm. Eerily calm. “You speak as if you know me, wolf, but you do not. I am not here to kill [i]only[/i] your kind. I will kill undead as well, I will slay any crooked supernatural pathetic enough to wrongly use their blessings. Oh yes, you heard me right, I do believe that we undead have been blessed with the greatest gift.” She said with a serene and almost pleased smile. 

Béatrix truly did believe that the gift of vampirism that Francis bestowed upon her was an absolute blessing. Becoming a vampire was the moment that Trixy chose to take hold of her life, to relinquish human thought, feeling, weakness… and sickness. Any creature who received such a wonderful gift, and chose to misuse it, was as good as dead in Trixy’s eyes. It was as if those creatures were the very ones that tore out her beloved Francis’ heart.