Lupus In Fabula

[Fiorella de Marco]

As she had done before in a hotel room on Houston, she tapped her index finger on the rim of her crystal glass once more while listening intently to the two men. The polite smile never faded from her partially masked face, a constant reminder of her poise and composure even in the most trying of situations. Her every gesture was imbued with a sense of refined elegance, befitting her status as a woman of means and sophistication.

"How thrilling it is to engage in risky endeavors, is it not? Playing by the rules of the upper echelon - who are often detached from the harsh realities of our daily lives - can become quite tedious. Perhaps this is why we are drawn to these ventures - they add a much-needed excitement and unpredictability to our existence."

She concluded her remarks to her host and took measured strides towards the man with the golden rose. For an instant, it seemed as though she might lower herself onto the seat beside him, but her poised form remained standing. With the graceful air of an aristocrat surveying her subjects, she cast her eyes downward upon him.

"Your proud posture, my dear stranger, is reminiscent of a leader I know. Your shoulders bear not only the weight of responsibility but also the stresses of countless lives resting upon them. Whether that be true or not, it is clear that you share many traits with him."

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Fiorella Arianna de Marco | As Dawn Mayflower
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