The flick of his tail pulls her attention trailing down his body as she finds slight scars from recent history of tribulations. She wonders for a moment what it is that he must have faced in order to obtain the small marks on his flesh. Her current form is lightly scarred itself but nothing deep enough to stop the fur from growing back on top of it. For the most part her difficult past is hidden beneath the illustrious coat that she brandishes and the confines of her own mind.

All else is out of focus as she stands with this other who was now deemed as hers. Her eyes move back to interlock with his as they appear to spark with interest at her simple words. Within the pit that she had dug they are nearly the same height, but it remains clear by the strength that she carries that she is a product of a far larger line of beasts.

Her expression remains placid as he speaks, showing neither the impassioned curiosity for this creature nor the reservation at accepting something so weighty upon a first meeting. She will assess everything first and react later; always calculated and always purposeful. His assumption was brash though not entirely inaccurate in terms of her past lives. When she had ascended to the form of a great deity there had been strings of taboo sacrifices in her honor, including bodies of the young. She had not asked for them but she also didn’t shy away.

Even still, she doesn’t lay claim to having any sort of pleasure in tasting the blood of children. “I sheathe myself in the embrace of Death and am bedeviled by the many souls that I’ve been forced to devour,” she acknowledged with her eyes still intently upon his own.

Waves of his energy are pulsating in their close vicinity and she feels that he may have some grasp on what she offers, just as Eros did. Not only does this one seem to be a different breed from those she’s encountered but he seems ready to drink in her very presence at any given moment. The hunger, the yearning, it’s all in his sharp argent eyes. She can feel his genuine desire to have her in one way or another.

As he makes a move toward her side she takes a few steps forward in one smooth and fluid motion, rising from the trench to stand on even ground with him. Her head remains craned to the side as she watches his movement and in turn she moves too, circling around to his opposite side to do as he wished to do to her. She will allow their scents to intermix. While she is her own self there is also now an undeniable connection with this one for one reason or another. The magick of this realm has deemed them fit for one another in a manner that she has yet to unveil, but she will soon enough.

She takes a few steps closer to him, allowing their sides to make contact and creating friction as she walks alongside him. The numbness, apathy and ennui that she once held onto is fading from existence. Born from a life of deceit and destruction, she now accepts the clean slate that this one offers her. She feels as if she has found more of herself in knowing him.

With his desire for physical contact satiated he seems inclined to ask for her name now. She answers willingly in the same sonorous tone with her family name. “Renja Azmiron.” Few knew of her second name and it was saved only for those that deserved to hear it. She deemed this one worthy of such an honor. “What name has the darkness bequeathed to you?” She asks in return as she comes to a stop at his neck, her pallid eyes staring curiously down into his.