Chrysine sat quietly in the dining nook of her apartment, hands folded primly in her lap. Her half-lidded eyes made it seem as if she was either asleep, meditating, or perhaps praying. Certainly the latter two options would have come to no surprise to her old squad-mates on the Crash Team. They knew her to be a true Lady of War, on one hand capable of coldly informing a room-full of Yakuza soldiers of their imminent demise, while on the other questioning the status of her soul and its place in the universe.

Right now she was doing neither. Content to remain still, only a flicker of her ears betrayed any awareness of her adopted daughter Angie taking a brush to the long length of Chrysine’s tail. The young teen worked in silence as well, no words needing to be spoken as she engaged in the pair’s daily morning ritual.

It had started long ago, when they’d first met in an Angelus orphanage, where Chrysine had allowed Angie to dress her long fall of silvery-white hair. Return visits would often start the same way, with Angie brushing out Chrysine’s silky tresses while the two talked about what was new with each other’s lives. Now that Angie was officially Chrysine’s daughter, the brushing of hair and tail every morning had become a virtual requirement. A way for the two to start the day, reaffirming their commitments to each other, a private and personal moment of bonding.

Setting the brush aside, Angie fussed with her mother’s hair a bit further before finally stepping back and nodding in satisfaction. All done,” she said.

Rising, Chrysine shook her head and flicked out her tail, setting her hair in place. Hoisting Hexbreaker to her shoulder, she held out her free hand to Angie. “Time to go.”

* * * * *

“Morning Sergeant Veillette.”

Desk Sergeant Veillette looked up at the sound of Chrysine’s voice and started to return her greeting before stopping dead in surprise. After a moment he found he voice and returned “Good morning Sergeant Chrysine.”

Turning back to his monitor, Veillette gave a mental shrug and shook his head. If Sergeant Chrysine, six feet of combat-class Clade and decorated XSWAT officer wanted to wear an immense bright blue bow in her hair, that was her business.