He is bold enough to speak again before she brings herself to him, the tone in which his voice is conjured in bringing her expression to change momentarily to one of near feigned concern. “Oh, nonono, my dear. I could not so easily forget - no matter how long it is that I live in this mortal form.” She utters softly as she is now approaching him. Perhaps all of Naamah’s realities are none of such true things; her words, actions, and thoughts. She is so trained to fabricate what emotions or words she needs to control a situation that she does not realize in reality, she feels no real emotion at all. Everything she does is a practiced act - her performer’s mask so expertly crafted that it is not so fragile enough to break. But to say that her love for Samil is empty would be a seemingly strong point for accusation; for her love is nearly split between those who are not Samil and Samil himself. Those who she forges her love for and he who her love was created from. It is not something that she can readily explain and there is no situation that she can be thrown into in which she will.

The tempestuous temptress now completes her ritual as she angles her shoulders to look back to him and he positions his tail to slip gently beneath her chin for a moment. She watches with lustrous, devoid eyes as he bends downward so that his nose caresses the base of her tail softly, her skin nearly sent into shivers with anticipation as he chuckles in that low timbre. He sees through her charades and seeks to call her out on it as he coils to press his fangs into her cheek and forces his presence upon her until she is slipping slowly into the hardened, charcoal of the earth. “You are the only one to ever see who I truly am.” She smiles coyly after she has spoken and looks upon him as he now holds himself above her lithe figure.

“Then you must have been hiding well.” She then quips, telling of how it is that she was incapable of knowing his whereabouts if he had been within Moladion this entire time. His voice demands her attention again, those virulent green eyes boring into her own demonic pair in a way that could be said to light the very fibers of her skin aflame. “I enjoy the company of all whom I seek - male or female.” Her words return in a rather collected manner, ignorant, or perhaps uncaring, of whether it may set his temper soaring. His muzzle presses roughly into her flesh as he inhales deeply through the lush pelage that veils her body. “Mmm, Samil, if you wanted to get sensual, all you had to do was say.” She purrs, her forepaws reaching around to grasp onto his scruff and her muzzle moving toward him so that she could lick at the corner of his lips.

“Ah, but I am not the only one who has been unfaithful.” Her voice calls in a whispered coo as she unsheathes her knives barely past his eye.