Exodus’ concern is a fresh perspective in Bellatrix’s life. Since her birth she has been raised up to live life in the most harsh of ways – solitary, self-preserving, and sometimes lonely. She doesn’t mind her seclusion within the crags and yet she does yearn for the feeling of being surrounded by a pack. That was where she had been fated to meet Exodus after all and that is one of the brightest memories in her life thus far. She still retains her violent tendencies and blames it on her mother’s superstitions of demon incarnation. If she truly believes in such fantasies she does not show it very much – but she dabbles in the idea of them from time to time. Then again, she is prone to contradicting nearly everything her mother has ever said. Aside from survival.

Perhaps someday she will regret her lack of closeness with Stella and yet she is aware that such is not a problem in the foreseeable future. For now it is shrugged away as she finds some form of comfort in Exodus’ presence now that her family is gone. ”Well of course they hurt at the time. Now they just itch…” she replies nonchalantly to his reaction to her wounds, turning her head to nibble habitually at one of the scabbing cuts as it crawls with sensation. The layer of hardened skin breaks loose at her teeth and a fresh stream of blood trickles from the small gash. Damn. Pink tongue laps out at the incision now to cleanse it of its red tint until the stream is now only a dabble of cruor.

She redeems herself quickly, yet not quickly enough, from her words. As Exodus’ response processes in her brain she is silent for a moment until shock is apparent upon her features, her jaws sliding agape slightly. ”WHAT? Why did you leave? That place was your life.” she does not refrain from emotions as she questions him simply because she knows of how he had worked so hard to train with his peers within the pack. All other concerns are long forgotten and while he tries to change the subject she will not let him have it that way. ”Ah ah ah…” she rejects his question of her current plans for the waning evening. ”You talk first, then we can go stir up some trouble like old times.” her tone is serious and yet there is a glint of playfulness in her eyes as she thinks of what they could possibly do for the rest of the day.