The woods are slowly becoming her home. Diveen was becoming more and more pushed out of her young mind. She could not explain the drive to go elsewhere, to not be tied down by the chains of pack, a pack in which she was considered a princess, the very daughter of Isola and Kane. Yet she felt they were drifting from being true Angels. They were not following the footsteps of purity and the True Angel named Riven. They were not as Phaedra wanted them to be, and all she could do was teach them in time...when her mind was not wandering and pushing her to explore the woodland, to make this place her home in the wilds where she likely belonged.
She was a woman built most wild. She was not a tame and delicate thing. She held the power and muscle of her father, and she developed at a rather young age. She had already grown considerably despite being two, and it was easy to mistake the girl of darkened sunset for an adult. Yet she did not emit the smell of a female in winter. She was not of age to smell as such, and she was not driven by any sort of sexual desire at her age. No, she was driven by her twisted mind, morphed and melded from the poisons which she ingests regularly. She is no typical female as she marches through the woods with wide, nebulous violet and golden eyes.
She lowered her dark head to sniff the ground, her nose roughly nudging the cold earth. She moved away dead leaves, her tongue licking at something on the ground when her black ears perked. Her head lifts, exposing the auburn that fades to gold upon her chest. She stood out like wildfire in the woods, her black paws lifting herself onto a dead tree stump as she stares at the male that approaches her.
She is not phased by him as he approaches. In fact, her face, strong and wild stares him down as he gets closer and begins to circle her. Her tail lifts high, head lifted in a manner unintentionally grand as he looks upon him. There is something that is not right about the way she looks, how her mind is simply not as others, not as it should be as she then twists her head to look at the other coming towards them.
In her mind she simply assess their use to her. If they would make good sacrifices or slaves to her True Angel. She goes not give any reaction to the charming smile the Brynn puts on. It bring no emotion to her at this moment, it is merely only a gesture of potential friendliness to her. He mentions the cold, and her mind does not understand why he brings such a thing up. He then mentions her beauty, and it only causes her brows to slightly furrow in thought.
"The cold is irrelevant- do you hold useless pelts?" she prodded. She was serious with her question, wondering just what use these two would be to her if their pelts do not keep them warm. It would be a sign of weakness, a sign the True Angel may wish to cleanse them from this earth. Phaedra had never considered her looks to be a matter of conversation, or importance what so ever, and anyone taken by looks also shows weakness of the mind...but perhaps she need not response as she wants to, which would be to tell them how irrelevant her looks are.
"Beauty is relative. The True Angel is the real beauty on this earth- she is all. She would want to meet you, both of you, I assure you, and if you enjoy beauty, you would certainly bask in her beauty more than mine," she stated, her face finally cracking in a smile, one starting to hint at a playfulness. The True Angel Riven may be around close, as she often seems to linger not too far. Perhaps the True Angel would be pleased with these two- if only she could lure them to her. Yet she does not know why they approach her, yet she does not show any weariness, no weakness or fear in her frame as she stares down Brynn with her eyes, with pupils strangely to large and black to be considered...normal.