It is perhaps a mix of both blood and winter that draws the giant from the borders of Diveen. For years he has not left that land, concealed within it’s shadows, doing as he has been told in some hope perhaps that in time he would come to be expected, seen for whom and what he was, rather than the face of the Father he wore. It is a futile effort perhaps and indeed to a certain extent the boy has become indifferent, jaded, given entirely to his Art and nothing else and yet in the times when the earth is quiet and there is no call for blood his mind is given to wander, his legs commanding of his frame this same desire to move though it is not without caution. He is a male grown entirely, breeching near 200lbs of weight and towering above so many others and yet still his snow-hued form remains wary. For years he has sheltered within Diveen, that border a protection against the creature whom had given him life. Ironic, perhaps, given that Tobias had sought his death for so very long, a hunt Elijah had sought to foil time and again by remaining within the protection of his family- albeit reluctantly. His tongue moves to scrape atop his whitened knives, as if he can near taste the female upon the wind, the scent of winter an alluring thing and one that cloaks the air with a heavied and honeyed scent that drives at basal instincts within the creature. It is this scent, intermingled with heated blood that draws the black-headed creature from the shadows, emerald eyes, the mark of his bloodline, held upon the girl as his hulking form takes shape before her.

For a moment he is given to pause, emerald eyes held upon her, as if he surveys her, taking in every line and touch of her frame, muscle and power rippling beneath the males thickened pelt as he moves forward once more. He is indeed a handsome creature, his features fine, sculpted, his form healthy, heavier and toned with the fitness of youth- a truly fine example of a male if ever there was one to be had and yet he is rarely given to be seen, kept hidden within the confines of Angels Wings. A growl of sorts is given to roll upward within his throat, a curious sound, for indeed the boy is a creature of few words, preferring observation to action and yet that the female does not rush him immediately assure some sense of satisfaction as he wanders forward once more, lips pulled back briefly to expose his fangs, red heckles bristling ever so slightly in both threat and warning. He is a poorly socialised creature and indeed perhaps he should not have approached as such and yet- he simply seeks to stake his own claim perhaps, to partake of the meal she has won. She cannot consume it all and indeed perhaps he merely…displays his worth in this moment, driven between a desire to feed and to taste that scent of winter upon her as his neck arches ever so slightly, the mow-hawked wolf close enough now to part his giant jaws and reach for a section of her kill. He poses now threat, merely…displays his own weaponry in this moment, a subtle indication that he will fend her from her own kill if he must in order to feed and yet surely she is not so foolish.

“You will not consume it all. We would like to share.”

The words roll freely, smoothly from his lips, baritone and yet youthful in their masculinity- though as to whom ‘we’ is remains to be seen, the male alone, or seemingly so and yet it has long been suspected such blood has been cursed, that madness runs within the veins of those descended from Jaidah……Bahamut…Jaye…Apollymi…Wotai….Demetri….Aaliayh…Heyel…Zeivah….and it is within this creature alone all such blood is combined into a potency that has seen this creature, half demon, half angel….split within himself. As if neither side were capable of taking hold entirely. For now however, his other half remains silent, merely whispering words to his ears, those blackened appendages twisting and turning upon his head in response to words only he may hear. Jaws reach from a section of meat, emerald eyes held against her own in this moment as he steadily grasps his prize, pulling back and away, turning his shoulder towards her, his back following moments later as he wanders some strides away, the towering creature lowering himself to the earth, his prize between his paws- leaving her all that remains though indeed he is far more sizeable, requires far more then what he has taken. It is fortunate perhaps…..that is the Angel whom is present today, jaded and sore though he may be and not the Demon who slumbers within.

She is ignored now, or seemingly so, the male offering no further response- as if she no longer exists. his social skills never were….good.