She was nothing more then a scared, lost puppy.

And, with that strange certainty that overtakes pups at times, the naïve young vulpur knew. With pristine yellow orbs she bored into the male, attempting to unearth the truth she sensed was buried there. Even as his rich tones shattered the silence, they could not hide his nature and his name did nothing to lighten her burden, tempered as it was with a daring tilt of his great skull. It was both frightening and infuriating, the calm way he observed her despite the fact that even her untrained gazers caught the spark of insanity hidden behind his windows. Like a jailed demon it clawed maliciously at its bonds, threatening to burst free at any given moment as if yearning for her tender and succulent teenage flesh to sate its undying hunger. However, there was something far worse then even this horrifying knowledge.

The knowledge that the dark brujo barely tried to fight it.

Cupping her audits towards him with the innocence of a teen ignorant of the harsh ways of the world, Hawk decided that it was time. Time to drop all pretences. When her jaws next parted and her lips formed the words, her tones were a filigree of relief in the haunting darkness,

“You don’t like me much, do you?”

Had she been a little older with a greater sense of foresight, she might have recognized what consequences may arise from her open words. Instead, she felt a terrible burden lift from her shoulders as the chocking mantle that had clothed her and become a façade pooled at her paws, its collapsing creases and folds releasing all the things left unsaid into the air for both canids to pore over and thoroughly examine.

Ladyhawke raised her honey-splashed maw in defiance though she kept her twins averted from his own. This minx had realized she was no soldier of the damned. However, she was not in the habit of quitting what she had started and she definitely would not run from a confrontation.
Even one with the potential to turn deadly.
She politely awaited an answer from the rakehell, her paws shuffling the dirt beneath her being the equivalent to human fingers slamming a rhythmic timbre of impatience onto a desk. Hawke was hardly impatient but was merely occupying herself lest she say something stupid.

In truth, she was in awe of the magnificent brute, so much wiser then she, though she kept her feelings to herself. They were not of the romantic sort, though, and it was more with the respect a green pupil holds for his master.

OOC_ so sorry for the wait, DARQ. My computer is slowly but surely dying and the internet with it......