His aura was intoxicatingly dark and the thought of him had stuck with her ever since she had first heard his voice. She had attempted to remain composed when returning to her mother and younger brother in Taviora but it was fairly easy to tell that something had gotten into the young witch. She was neither good nor evil, dark nor light, and there was always some glimmer of hope within everyone she met. That being said, she was not exactly the most forthcoming and exuberant girl out there; her rough childhood had taught her to be cautious, always. But there was something about this boy that tore down all of her walls - call it young love - and that was a dangerous thing in its own right.

Since their run-in, she had been working on more spells within the confines of the Tavioran border to keep herself busy and distracted from the thought of him. But that only worked for so long and when he did not track her down and come calling at her doorstep she became impatient. Why had he not shown himself? The thought that he may not be interested had never even crossed her mind. She had been eagerly venturing out from Taviora for the past few days in hopes of running into the dashing, mysterious fellow but to no avail. Until today.

It was the last time that she would make a go at trying to mistakenly run into him and promised herself that she would move on - as if it would be an easy task. Her dainty paws danced across the forest floor in rhythm as her inky eyes solemnly watched the scenery pass her by. She was rather skilled at concealing her thoughts and emotions when she focused really hard, a tactic that she was trying to practice more and more, but it was never fail-safe.

She plans to duck into her favorite cove for some lavender before it all dies out for the year and that is when a voice stops her dead in her tracks. It is familiar and haunting to her ears, the recent memory of his visage coming into her mind’s eye before she turns to face him. Her body pivots to greet him as he catches up to her, his salutation causing her to smile slightly. Oh, and if those pitch hued eyes of her’s could show it they would light up like a raging flame on a hot, windy day. Her dark prince had come to find her. His odor is a mixture of other wolves but most of all it smells musky like the dank caverns and wild like the lands he crosses. Her own scent is riddled with remnants of Taviora as well as the herbs and flowers that she collects for their usage; the most prominent being that of ash and wild roses. Her favorite ingredients.

”Yes, out gathering materials for witchling things,” her coy smile turns sly as she twists his title for her back into her words. ”And what are you doing all the way out here?” she pries to know whether he was here for her or if she was just a detour.