thirteen - no heart - Heyel's soul - Spirane
sister of warlow, dam of none
this is her in blackouts

So quick he is to dismiss her and to place himself above her with the simplest of words. She was fast beginning to realize the Heyel was quite overly full of himself - it was brimming over into the world around him. Sometimes silence is the high road and in this instance she adapts to it although her ears flick back in a mild sign of annoyance. So he had once been a King, mighty and whatnot, and so he had fathered the line of the 'Angels'. It just meant he couldn't keep his hormones in check and that he had a savvy way of getting those to follow him. How she wasn't so sure considering the sardonic way he spoke to be off-putting unless a bunch of imbeciles had been attracted to his glamor of strength and assurance. Were the creatures of his weak-minded followers or had he not always been so.. blunt?

It mattered not anyways as he wasn't a leader now. This encounter was fast leaving a bitter taste within her mouth. Confidence was one thing, cockiness another. Her life had not been as great or wonderful as his - she had not been a ruler of many or a dam of some mystical line of wolves. Her children were dead. Her mate, so long ago, was dead. Everything she loved, excepting her brother, was dead and gone. Moladion offered a chance to renew that sense of purpose and even that had been botched by her attack and subsequent blackouts. She had destroyed a life of innocence and been destroyed in turn.

Ah he lectures her about demons. Did not Lillith sink her teeth in Natu's flesh? Did she not carry with her a sense of enjoyment in doing so? That was quite like the demon qualities he spouted, so unknowingly of her circumstances. Natu again held her thoughts to herself, a blanket of shadows that churned in the backs of her pale eyes. She does find his comment about mud amusing, however, and her lips twitch into a sardonic twist. It is a subtle agreement. Lillith had stunk to high heaven - a product of the marshes. The mountains were much more suitable to Natu. She could climb high into the crisp air and be both apart and a part of Spirane; she could climb until the air became thin and her lungs cried out and feel the refreshing sense of life flood through her veins.

"Ah, indeed she is, but a true leader would not sacrifice one of her people to appease another? Purge's mind is her own, for the time being, and she has not given me cause to doubt her. But I do not think she will be among the mountain wolves for long. It seems Moonglow's progeny will not be put off." Of course she knew of Purge and her somewhat friendly mannerism with those of Iromar. Yet she had not openly declared peace with them. She had not invited them into Spirane. Natu watched high above them as often as possible and there was little sign of some invasion.

He is quick to withdraw from her and her answering grin to his own is knowing for she too shares the bond between them that is eager for their closeness. Her heart, however, is not. It is strange, she thinks, that she should be tied to such a creature as he. They seem at odds with one another in her mind at least yet fate did not make mistakes.

"I see," she replies smoothly to him, mystically with a raised eyebrow before glancing away from him, at the slowly dissipating ground of wolves. Their conversation has begun to eat into time and she feels a sense of agitation growing at the sense of aloneness she has with Heyel. She is eager to leave him, to return back to her den in Spirane, to try once more to offer some sort of peace between her and Sven. His plight is of her own doing. She would right that wrong. She had to, for her own soul and for his happiness.

Really? Her eyes grow wide in disbelief as he begins to spout off about how she has earned such a wonderful imprint (what about him earning HER?) and then speaks about her leaving the place she has come to call home. Openly she laughs, mocking and derisive, no longer amused at his antics. She stands and stares at him for a moment as if waiting for him to say 'ha, just joking'. But he doesn't. Of course not. "I am quite honored, oh King Angel Heyel, to have this bond between us; you seem so happy with it I cannot imagine a greater thing in my life!" Each word comes out more and more scolding, harsh, furious, until finally she steps towards him, crowding him with ears laid back and teeth gnashing in anger.

"About as open as I am to having an imprint such as yourself. Good day to you," she finishes before stepping past him, her tail brushing against him absently while she stalks away, the heat inside of her aching and building despite the bond that cries for her to once more stay next to him.