LOTTE POST SEQUENCE

<I>Lotte was not the sort that would appreciate a sugarcoated retelling of what occurs in the afterlife. It was not something she had been raised on, nor would she believe it harmonious with her innate beliefs about the beyond. Draz's frank remarks were welcomed, something she would accept without hesitation, as it was true he had dwelled within the Hell plane for... hundreds upon thousands of her lifetimes. An unimaginable span of time, inconceivable in comparison to her own humanity. What was there to doubt? She was a creature that measured the value of one's worth when weighed against the depth of their collective experience; doing so for Draz generally resulted in an unshakeable amount of trust being placed upon the goat-man's shoulders. Was it wise, given his status? Perhaps not... But as one Lycan had unceremoniously taken gratification in pointing out, the bond between partners had to be unwavering. Doubting him and his wealth of insight would be misguided, wasting precious seconds... "<B>It is as I expected, then, but your saying it is reassuring to me... Thank you.</B>" <I>As they strolled past the clustered shades whose essence amassed into a singular body, both drawn toward Charlotte's aura of promise and repelled by Draz's aura whispering of their damnation, the specter drifted as if the wind held sway over its disembodied form, never too far from the duo. She had grown used to the strange push-and-pull of their combined spiritual energies, like gravity upon the tides. In their way, the pair balanced one another exceedingly well. Even the more philosophical musings of the elder demon were not simply dismissed by Lotte, who had shown a certain repugnance at waxed sentimental utterings. It was not a lie when she had told Arius they were a useless tactic on a field of battle when lives were on the line, as she truly did not believe employing emotional manipulation was a reliable strategy that would ensure an objective was met. Humans were unpredictable enough as they were without the influences of Heaven and Hell bearing upon them. Factor in these otherworldly elements and... what good were they? Skill prevailed. And yet, Lotte did not mind so much if it were Draz doing the babbling. But then, she saw his power firsthand; the devastation he could unleash if he relinquished an ounce of control. Let him pretend to be Ralph Waldo Emerson, his propensity toward the romantic did not hinder their professional lives. She feared somebody as blindly optimistic as the wolf, however, would only lead to their charge's imminent demise. And one had to wonder where the soul of a Lycan may drift to. If the church's resources were correct and the origin of lycanthropy could be lain at the feet of demons, then... Surely, even the most remarkable wolf would find themselves Hellbound. It was an odd line of thought, but then, speaking with Draz always left the young woman with more questions to reflect upon than when the conversation began. As it were, Draz's musing about eternal sleep did not fall to deaf ears. Lotte would pause before the weathered marker, slowly sinking to her knees to initiate the arduous task of uprooting the stubborn weeds that threatened to overtake it. The limestone transmitted a faint white dust onto her knucles as they brushed against the rock, name previously engraved in centuries past illegible to the modern peruser.</i> "<B>Is there... is there a passing for beings such as yourself, Draz? Some kind of higher death that would erase your existence entirely? I wondered that myself, upon summoning you, what the repercussions of my powers unleashed would be. If my threats were only empty at best.</B>" <I>Threats she did endure some remorse in uttering. If he had been another kind of malevolent male, the kind she had anticipated, then such feelings would never dare manifest; he was not.</i> "<B>Our elders tell me the extent of my magic is not yet realized and it may actually be possible, but now I dread the notion of inflicting that fate onto you, even if you desired it. Please never force my hand.</B>" <I>Or, in other words, Lotte hated the idea of 'vanquishing' him, unsure what would befall him, and even if she had to- ... could she?</i> // <B>.e.</B>