The rain continued to pour down. The sky remained dark as the feeling of cold sky continued to soak his black and red pelt still littered with the scent of Iromar. It was hard to get off all of the scents of death and destruction. He had indeed begun creating a special little hell, shrine of death that floated in the bogs as a reminder of Demon superiority over the weak. It was a scent he proudly wore, one often found vile to the nares of others, yet they were not as he. He is one who relishes in the smell of unpleasantness, his own brain wired in different places, contorted to love what others are wired to view as disgust. Let her smell the scents of death upon him, and he cared not if she happened to catch a wiff of Lillith within his wet pelt, though doubtful she would.

It would indeed be important for Nakki to realize the connection he held with Lillith. How it is something new to the Demons not in Moladion, a thing most powerful, a thing most beautiful. Lillith shone in his sunset eyes, shone as fangs of lighting from the distant sky. It was a night like this where he wished so strongly to find the dark woman who called to him, who bore his children. Yet, Nakki is a nice surprise, an appreciated one in a time of need for the Demons. Their numbers will still not in an ideal place. He was not stupid. He knew that numbers were an important part of the game they all played. The game for dominance and control. He wanted the Demons to rise, to control all as they should. Each individual counts, if they are of any worth.

Her words brought only a half smirk to his chiseled jaw. Always trying to be smart, this Nakki. He resists the urge to rolls his eyes, listening further as her voice is crowded with the sound of water crashing into earth. He keeps his aura of dominance, an aura so natural and becoming of him. It was hardly something he could control, for his pure and raw power was something to very much stand in awe at. Request? She wishes to request something from him? He lifted a brow, a thick huff resonating from his built frame.

"What is it, that you dare request from me, Nakki? For each thing you request, you very well know I will demand something in return," he vocalized, his voice exuding nothing but command as his sunset eyes watch over her body, so sarcastic she is, something needed for his own amusement, yet something that can be only tolerated to an extent. He will listen, waiting for her response for she would answer him, and she would heed to the fact that her request are just that: requests. It is he who determines if those requests be met, and there is always a price to pay, no matter how small.