In her youth, she had been favored perhaps. It was not a difficult feat. Her mother had always preferred to give birth to females and Lamia had been but surrounded by brothers and so, it had not been difficult to be placed upon a pedestal. Yet, she had never been comfortable atop it. She preferred the quietness of her own agenda and the shadows of discrete living. Even then, her mother had certainly been able to rub pieces of herself off onto the woman - a predatory nature, an unusual perception of sport. Perhaps she even lacked the moral compass that might otherwise dictate those around her. For Lamia, the world was but the same everywhere; boundaries were but constructs she could choose to ignore, both the physical kind and the ethical. It is why she did not linger too long in her thoughts of Iromar even as the breeze seemed to momentarily resonate with the stench of mud and mist. It'd always be available for her...just like everything else.

A part of her had been aware of eyes upon her and yet, she did not acknowledge them. She merely moved forward and went through with her plans, situated neatly atop her little throne. Still, a crimson rimmed ear twisted towards the forests around her, ever fixated on the prospect of being interesting to another. Wolf was in the air for the first time in a long time and it, too, made Lamia just as interested.

Time meant little then. It stretched on and yet, Lamia remained a frozen shadow; her eyes fixated up and her toes flexed against the cool stone. Eventually though, the atmosphere changed. Like a sudden wave, she found herself surrounded by the feminine musk of another and slowly - like clockwork almost - her head twisted towards the sudden arrival of another. A moment passed, a brief one at that, when Lamia believed this stranger familiar and then, she dismissed it with a cool flick of her ear. She did not know the scent nor the essence and yet, she was captivated by the crimson and the black: a sister of sorts.

Then, the stranger spoke. It is the words that made Lamia suck in a sudden breath, her mouth opening slightly to draw the woman's essence across her tongue in order to taste it. It lacked the swamps and the reeds and yet, it lacked everything in such a sense. It told her nothing and for that, Lamia despised it. She did not like words so much or, at least, she did not like the idea of those that were better at them.