Elohim, simply put, lacked the temper of his blood. Not even Heyel or the Demons of his blood had ever been able to climb up into his bloodstream. Instead, it simmered only below the surface, a fickle thing that dared to blow away into the winds of disinterest. But with Aster, it felt somehow more raw, more alive in his gut - the aura of hers, he thought, only sought to inspire it within him too. In part, he detested it for such a feeling was foreign and revolting, a slip up that gave way to impulse and weakness but another part was curious as to just how far it could be pushed. Today, though, was not such a day to test it.
He wished to laugh in that moment as he withdrew. Her dissatisfaction with the truth? It seemed rampant. It seemed nobody else wanted to tell her. And then she lashed out.
He did not move, did not seek to even step back, as her teeth clipped the fur and flesh of his neck. Instead, he stared ahead into her eyes, unmoving as his lip twitched up into a snaggled grin. Slowly, his eyes drifted down, unable to inspect the wound that now oozed into his skin, a metallic scent that made his nose twitch. It burned and yet, he wondered if it burned any more than the fires that had lead her to lash out. Slowly, he rose to his full height, her panicked words breaking the tension with an explosive force. He had not seen such a thing before - never had he seen somebody so taken aback, so afraid of...themself?
"Fortasse," - perhaps - he issued then with a roll of his shoulder, "ille intus habitat" - he lives within you. The words were vacant, an offhanded comment, and then, he ducked his head in his typical fashion before he turned to depart. He would not turn to her as he moved across the borders, feigning ignorance of the pain in his neck, and yet, who could say what intentions drove such a thing.