She's an alert little creature. I can tell she notices that I'm tense and I'm sure she can hear my soft warning but she stands her ground even so. I sniff but there's no stench of fear around her. That disappoints me, I'll admit, but I won't let it get me down. She seems elated if anything that the black wolf is dead, as if she did her wrong or didn't share a toy or something. I continue to watch her, intrigued by her reactions. They're certainly not the reactions of a normal wolf, certainly not a female who just watched a wolf die by the jaws of another wolf. She looks at me, her eyes traveling over my coat and muscle tone. I'm still lean like Fiera, but my thick fur hides most of the muscle underneath. I'm not a tank like Hyperion, more of a stealthy fighter, one with skills beyond bullying and throwing weight around.

She looks at my eyes next and seems to be hooked by the mismatched quality of them. The red in them gleams like blood while the black encircles like ash and death. She has a hungry look in her eyes as she watches my own gaze and I have a feeling just as she wants the eyes of the corpse before me, she also wants my eyes if I were to find my own demise. My lips twist toward a smirk. Sorry, honey, I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. It's going to take more than a surprise attack to take me down.

She looks from me to the body, as if waiting for the cue to charge. I have to ask the question. I'm interested to know more about her, to study her as I studied so many before. I can do a close up inspection of her, more interrogating and questioning. I want to know what makes her tick other than just pretty eyes. I can tell she's surprised by the question. No one's probably asked this before giving her what she wants. Well, she's not allowed to be a princess with me. There's always got to be something in it for me.

She looks down at her paws, tracing patterns in the dirt with her claws, her delicate face thoughtful. She seems to be going over her options as if truly wondering what she could do for the eyes. I wait patiently, ears flickering alertly just in case someone else wants to stop by. Finally she looks back up, meeting my eyes. I tilt my head as I listen to her propositions. She said she smell and sniff and even adds in puppies. My brow arches up in slight surprise. I didn't expect this. I offer a light shrug.

"My nose works just fine so I don't need you for that. As for your second option, I'm not looking to start a family any time soon. Besides, I'd have to get to know you a lot better before. Try again."

My eyes offer a wicked gleam as I wait to gauge her reaction to this. I'm still waiting to hear something I'm actually interested in. Do I know what I want from her? Not in the slightest, but I'm still trying to think up a plan so in the meantime, I'm stalling. She looks to be about the same age I am, three years old, almost old enough to claim a pack or create life or take a mate. Too bad I'm not interested in any of that. Who knows? A year from now, that may change but for now, I'm content to study and figure out my next plan of action. More death is in store for Moladian, that's for sure.

She asks what I want from her, moving her head more like a bird than a wolf. I think for a moment before leaning toward her.

"Tell me, are you in a pack? What is your name? Who do you admire? What is your objective in life? I want to know more. Why do you like eyes so much?"

D A E M O N