He, They, whatever they might exist as is momentarily soothed by the submissive stance of the female, her lowered head and lack of returning aggression seeming to settle his delicate temperament as lips fall back over those dangerously large teeth, emerald gaze softening ever so slightly and yet he balances upon the knife edge all the same. He finds others irritable, intolerable, he likes only Dirge truly- he has been away from others for far too long now, separated from conversation and social custom and as such he no longer cares to uphold them as massive white paws press into the soil and his form paces in irritation. It is only the most subtle of shifts that sees his head tilt, turn, a lighter hold to his frame now as his pacing is halted and his emerald gaze fixates almost anew upon the female- asking now, in masculine vibrating tones, just who she desired to talk to.

Her answer merely sees his gaze narrow for the briefest of moments before his form stands once more, pacing like a caged beast again as if this flurry of movement is somehow required, as if both minds are content to argue- and perhaps they are. Elijah is suspicious, Ego is curious, one seeks to speak and one does not. It is merely poor chance perhaps that she has requested the one who is wary of her and her presence, the one who grows more irritable each passing minute she is before him. He wishes only to return to the shadows and to sleep. It is a waste perhaps, for such a creature, one of the last assassins, the apprentice of Ava herself and yet not every Angel finds glory- the boy cast between two worlds and desired truthfully, by neither. Isola, in the least, had always been kind. She had held some love for the son of her favoured sister and yet it was love for her sister….and that alone. What this female could possibly want he hardly knew, he had nothing to give, not anymore. He is content to live what remains of his life.

Though how little of it remained was unknown to even him. Elijah so entirely unaware of the proverbial hidden blade already moving towards him. He seems to settle, at last, if only slightly, seating himself once more though each muscle remains taut and tense as his gaze falls upon the female. His heckles remain lifted, if only slightly, though his teeth remain seated for now, forcing himself to fixate his attention upon her in evident expectation.

“Then….ask your…..question.”

How long his patience for her will last is decidedly unknown. For now though, he seems to be listening.