The journey had been cold and, frankly, barely manageable thanks to Mittani's presence, and the aura of “I'm the boss” that he oozed. Fortunately, Angharad had always seen through his little displays of dominance with ease, and now more-so than ever. Her thoughts were fixed solely on her spider.
She had never been a fan of Mittani—the fool was recklessly savage, cruel and had, in her honest and most important opinion, no redeemable features whatsoever.
The Splendid woman did not like to bow to men, especially not to the white fiend leading the group onward, but Craw … oh, he was different. He treated her as she needed to be, and it was in Angharad's favour to kneel before him. She had grown accustomed to it, and the thought of doing so no longer boiled away in the back of her mind. It was an agreeable compromise: to gain everything she had ever dreamed of, she need only follow one man.
Thanks to that, it had been a painfully embarrassing period of her life to be beneath a wolf who prided himself on having simple brute strength and no brains to go behind it. And, goodness, how the pathetic excuse for intimidating words that Mittani spewed grated on her! It was more like bile dribbling from his mouth, a most unattractive sound.
And Cheedo! Silly, sad little Cheedo, who clung to Mittani's side like a scared mouse … or perhaps the title “parasite” would fit her more. Did the woman have no pride left in her body at all? At least Angharad had been capable of functioning at the news of Craw's demise—at least what had been assumed to be—and had raised a child that was not her own, even with the pain of Mortus' death fresh in her heart. Cheedo had simply dragged herself about, whimpering and coddling up to the first man who so much as breathed in her direction.
The two wolves were made for each other: one was a loud mouthed brute who thought himself tougher than he really was (the irony; as if The Splendid Angharad could dismiss someone for having an ego), the other a woman who pissed herself the moment she stood alone without someone to rely upon. Laughable excuses for loyalists to Splendid's spider, ones he could do without; they could fall madly in love, run off together and die somewhere cold by themselves. It would save the rest of them from seeing their foul little shows of kissy-kissy-behind-Craw's-back, and it would put an end to Splendid's competition, even if she believed that she had already won.
At least Moriarty soothed her internal sparks. His playful remarks and general attitude raised her spirits when they sagged—you couldn't image the burden this journey was having on her—and she was truly glad for his company. He had been there for Angharad when she had needed someone, and he had given her purpose beyond seeking the attention and flattery she needed—no, deserved—when he had saved Odysseia. Thanks to Moriarty, a piece of Craw belonged to Angharad. That was a surprisingly sweet pill that she had been all too eager to swallow. The spider might not realise it yet, but he owed his treasure quite a bit of his time now.
And yet, Moriarty could not save her from Mittani's next words. The audacity! Angharad found herself glancing to the man who had helped her raise Odysseia with a quirk of her brow. How rude of their white companion to keep them all waiting. When she turned her attention back to Mittani, she might have clutched her pearls and scrunched up her face in disgust if she could—the nerve this brute had, to show such possession over Cheedo, one of Craw's!
Composure. She had to find her composure. She had to remind them who exactly called the shots. And so, she took a steadying breath before stepping forward; she smiled sweetly, almost innocently, hiding the venom dripping from her dagger-like tongue. “Treat our dear little Cheedo like she is yours any longer, Mittani, and you might find yourself alone in more ways than one.” Angharad's gaze swept to Cheedo. “Remember who first saved you from yourself, little rabbit.”
Never had that nickname held any good connotations, as endearing as it was on the surface (much like all of Angharad's actions and words). A rabbit was weak of body and spirit, it lacked courage and was brought down with ease.
No wonder Splendid had always been Craw's favoured wife. She seemed to be the only one with a shred of dignity. Or so she liked to believe.
Full glad she was, then, when Odysseia chimed in with her own observations of Mittani's show of ownership! But she then found herself full of disappointment, knowing it was simple teasing. Were she any less of a controlled, respectable woman, Splendid would had rolled her eyes at her daughter's next words. She'd save that for later, when she was in the company of herself. Alone. “Odysseia, sweetheart, what have I told you about referring to our little group as a gang?” As if the Splendid Angharad, most treasured of all Craw's “possessions”, would let herself be part of anything that referred to itself as a gang.
When he spoke, Roosemoth was questioned by Craw's daughter-by-blood and, once more, mother had to step in to remind all of them who they truly followed the words of, even if it were an indirect method. Roosemoth had always been Craw's trusted advisor, and there was no doubt in Angharad's mind that he had always ranked above Mittani in Craw's thoughts. “Roosemooth knows what he is doing, dearest. He might not tell us,” much to some of their disappointment (and bruised egos), “but he is your elder—our elder. He is more knowledgable than you may realise.” Really now, what had gotten into Odysseia? The moment their group had left to find Craw, it was as if she had suddenly muddled up who the man she had heard stories about as a pup with another! When had Angharad, or even Moriarty, ever whispered sweet things about Mittani, of all wolves, into her ear?
Having said that, when had she ever voiced her distaste either?
It didn't matter much. If she really wanted to ruin the image Odysseia had of Mittani, Angharad need only speak to her daughter the moment they were safe under Craw's rule.
“Do hurry back to us,” she simpered, her smile targeted at Roosemoth. “I should like to think Craw will be looking forward to seeing you again.” Almost more than anyone else here, she tacked on mentally.
A shame for the spider's former teacher, really. It was now Splendid that would surely be Craw's be top priority. She had to be. She would not stand to be anything less. And, heavens forbid, should he overlook her, Angharad would make herself known. Craw wouldn't dare forget his most prized treasure, would he? And … if he had replaced her?
Well, it wouldn't take much to get back to her rightful position.
Angharad thought herself master of sweet words, after all. Her self image was incredibly flawed—in her own thoughts, she truly believed that charm effortlessly flowed from every word, every movement, every breath. She might not be the smartest of all women, but she could use her assets to her advantage if her words did not hit the mark. Craw would not resist her for long, if at all.
“I have no questions for you, Mittani,” she finally spoke for herself, almost looking at him down her nose—it couldn't be helped, she was taller than him, and that gave her a most believable excuse to get away with blind murder. “Only for Craw. So, if you would do the honours …?”