Oh such grace! Oh such beauty!
And lipstick, and callous
and fishnets and malice

Harridan was a survivor. When all those strange wolves claimed that the end was coming. That they had some sort of knowledge from the stars that the end was coming. Harridan had considered staying. After all, she had young children at her teats and a happy, safe place to raise them. But when the night sky lit up like the noon time sun, she had chosen one and high tailed it from Moladion into the outer lands where it was safe. Virago was her only surviving daughter; her only surviving child. Part of her felt guilty for taking only one, but Harridan had always been a survivor and the feeling passed once Virago left to strike out on her own. Harridan would never be anything more than a survivor really. The other titles, mother; lover; friend...those titles would always fade away. The one that remained would always be that of an survivor. Harridan had never been afraid of being alone yet her desire to be near Abraxus was still rather strong. She ignored the fact that he had abandoned her when he found his imprint. "Or they perished from the meteor, or were you too lovestruck to remember that? And then there was all that nonsense with Demons. I left Moladion after that because I was bored."

And yet, after she touches him, reassuring her mind that he was real and not a distorted, cruel figment of her own twisted imagination--he returns the gesture albeit a bit more violent than her own realization. She feels the pressure of his jaws against her nape, the saliva wetting down her sterling fur. She feels that desperate need to survive, feeling that brings her heart pounding into her ears and adrenaline pulsing through her blood. She does not whine, she does not move. She revels in feeling of her life just teetering on the edge. The thrill of it caused the slightest wag of her tail and her eyes to move up to meet the cold of his blind eye. He releases her, ending her revelry, and hisses into her ear.

He releases her. He takes steps out of her presence and she finds herself craving to be in such proximity again. Gone were the pangs of hunger that threatened her stomach. Instead was that draining of danger, the chills that ran through her caused her to shake her coat out. She groaned with pleasure from the release catching that Cheshire cat grin on his beautifully marred face. "See there sweetheart, you always pay up." She was not above taking scraps from his kill. A survivor did not pick and choose when easy meals appeared or at least were hinted at. "But lucky for you, I'm not so hungry as I was before. Tell me, why are you back here? Determined to win over your hoards once again? Take over the world?" She smooths down some of the fur displaced by his jaws as she waits for his answer before sitting and settling back down.