A flicker of hope ignited in Ladyhawke’s breast, brought about by the strange stag’s cynical grin and the slight wave of his whip as he observed her pathetic kow-towing. For a moment the pale flame whispered, then died as the topaz lanterns noticed a prehensile pink muscle extend from his maw and caress black lips teasingly. No doubt his thoughts were filled with the taste of her blood. However, the vixen pretended not to see it, unsure of how she should react and not wishing to provoke him, glad she hadn’t when his scars split into an almost indulging smile. Though the proud ess found it demeaning, she again gave no inkling that she had been witness to the dark-tinted brutus’s sentiment. She always found it easier if she did not provoke when her throat was exposed to the heavens. As she rose, the mist grew thicker, adding yet more mystery and depth to the strange ebon dragga as he towered before her, his aura confident with a hint of malicious intent. Ladyhawke found herself brushing his pelt with curious orbs, attempting to pierce his armor with a glittering gaze. Of course, he seemed immune to her efforts and his defensive weaponry had no chinks. She was unsure over why she had lied about her title, only sensing that Ladyhawke had a certain feminine ring the tomboy ess would rather avoid. Hawk had just seemed the obvious choice for a name replacement and she had acted on a whim, unsure if she would later live to regret it.

His gruff lyrics strained the tense air once more as a chuckle spilled from his jowls. Lady pinned back her tulips and fixed the stoat with an indecisive stare. Trying to pretend she had imagined the malevolence in his tenor laugh, her best endeavors were foiled by the words that he used to reply to her. She was glad then that she was so good at hiding her emotions for she was not used to sucking hind teat and his words only strengthened her resolve to prove him wrong. Regaining her composure, Hawk leveled out her voice so that her next words emerged from her crevasse without so much as quaver,

“Thank you. I will not let you down!” for a moment, childish exuberance filled her voice before she calmed down, “Forgive me but I don’t know your name?”

She did not think that even this emotionally unstable brujo could take offence to her words, so carefully uttered were they, but she was filled with a boundless confusion. This brute was an omega, she could now deduce from his stance, and now, so was she. Should she still retain a subordinate stance or stand before him as an equal (strictly speaking). Raising her pate, she kept her audits slicked back and her searchlights fixed to an invisible point over his shoulder, as was customary between wolves. However, she tentatively allowed her sleek chassi to fill out as she took deeper breaths and her flag waved at half-mast, still slightly below his. Her façade contorted into a mask of repose as she let herself deflate, relaxing now that she was seemingly out of any imminent danger. However, that left her mind to riddle over her whereabouts and the strange lay of Munashii topography.