:::not here for my confessionals:::
The dancer spun and twisted in the air as though floating, every inch refined, every inch desirable. Malignus could barely keep himself in check as he watched her, his mouth beginning to salivate with his need as his body tingled. He hid it well though, perfectly masking his true self beneath a visage of friendly sincerity and, as was usual, his ploy worked almost perfectly. He had judged the female well. Her initial greeting of him had been somewhat reserved, and he had begun to feel slightly worried that he had come on too strong. His concerns appeared to be misplaced, however, when she reacted so well to his compliments, posing as he himself did, her fur so slick it shone. Malignus returned her bright smile with an equally charming grin, his tail continuing to beat out a regular rhythm in the air even as he began to imagine what he would do to her.
Still perfectly at a loss as to what was being planned for her, the young female gave him her name and asked him his own. At one point, he had wondered whether granting himself a false title would be helpful during his exploits, but had chosen to keep the name with which he had been born. He hated it and all the memories that clung to it, but he could not argue that it suited him perfectly, outlining his devilishness. In a voice smooth as silk he let more compliments drip from his lips, honey to lure an unsuspecting butterfly with, “Aldonza. My, I was beginning to think that angels had no names, only beautiful faces. My title is far less grand than yours, and for that I apologize,” he bowed so low his muzzle touched the rocks that were to his touch as cold as his heart, “I am Malignus, a traveling bard. When I saw you, I thought to myself 'now here's a lady who must have many stories to tell. With such beauty and grace, she no doubt knows much of the world an has been the object of many admirers' and now I hear your name and it would fit my tales perfectly. How would you like that, my wonderful lady, to be famous as the most astoundingly wonderful creature I have ever been blessed enough to lay my eyes on?” He had to make sure she trusted him wholly and completely before he began the next stage of their meeting, and so he sought to disarm her with his flattery.
She was but a fly, a pretty little blowfly caught in the web of a hungry spider. And, with every word he spoke, Malignus sought to draw his threads tighter and tighter about her until he was sure she could not escape him. It was truly thrilling, and it brought the male joy as he stood before her, his teeth taking on a gleam of purest happiness, for where is the actor more at ease than on the stage? The multi-hued male played his part perfectly, and he was only sorry that there was nobody around to see it and admire it for what it was; a most difficult and yet precise form of art.
male/no mate/no pack/imprintless/four years/father of none