Devil’s initial response to her first greetings was nothing short of groan-worthy, the ruby lass rolling her orbs in their sockets at the wink he presented. Men. Always think the ladies are bursting at the ovaries to see every little glimpse of their pathetic frames. Thankfully Samus knew what a well-placed slash to the gentleman’s region could do, silencing even the most arrogant and cocky of creatures, turning their booming proclamations into whimpering cries. She grinned to herself, the thought of it always making her oddly satisfied.

His next utterance was a long phrase of explanation and request. The demonic boy started by replying to her joking comment, his answer nothing short of what the huntress had come to expect. Then he proceeded to inform her that his wish did not include bloodshed, a line she was not fond of hearing. She flattened her ears in fake disappointment, a slight pout forming on her ebony kissers as she tilted her head, batting those emerald man-slayers in a sarcastic show of discontent. She would have produced some witty comment as well, if Devil were not barreling on to his next slew of words, leaving no space for her to interject. Tracking skills, wolves for the pack, best of the best... ah, she sighed internally, finally he was getting to the meat of the matter. Two names. Nimhe and Flare. She rolled the words on her tongue, tasting the syllables, filing through every wrinkle of her gray matter to locate their presence within. She could not say for certain if she had heard the names before, picked up through eavesdropped conversations or her own private digging, but they were not completely foreign to her either. She snapped back to reality just as Devil was speaking of her “bonus”, evaluating each of the candidates as she wished or returning with a report of their shortcomings.

She scoffed, obviously not impressed by what he had suggested. Sure, the hunt for wolves was more than necessary, and Samus always enjoyed a good search, but she toyed with every wolf that held the name “Malignant” attached to their title, recruit and resident alike. This “bonus” was no incentive for the painted mistress. After all, Samus Aran was the type of wolf who got everything she wanted and still craved more. She quickly pondered if she might milk a little more out of this situation; her persuasion skills could lure even the most cautious beast to the cliff’s edge. Rising to her pillars, the femme took her sweet time descending from her mossy perch, all lithe muscle and dark red fur. She headed straight for her superior, not caring to break eye contact. “What you propose sounds interesting enough... however, you forget one important detail. I work for payment. Evaluating the recruits would be an expectation not a reward, would it not? Surely you wouldn’t want me escorting any old loser to the borders.” She kept her voice level, persuasive, devious. Her paws soon came upon his, deflecting slightly to the left, bringing their faces parallel and only inches apart. She eyed him just as he was surely eyeing her, banner swaying to her own internal beat. “So do tell, what’s really in it for me?” She let the words fall as a purr from her throat, soft and rumbling, eyes closing slightly, the hint of a grin on her maw. She continued forward and traced the tip of her tail along his ribs, playing them like keys on a piano, glancing behind to gauge his reactions. She was more than content to leave with nothing if Devil decided to reject her lyrics and pull rank on her Omega ass, dutifully starting the search, but if he was willing to barter she would take everything he had to offer.