Hazy orange eyes spot something dark floating towards her through the mists. Slowly Lillyheart lifted the side of her white face from the soft fleshy pillow. Blinking once or twice to check it wasn’t a mirage she surprises herself by dipping her head towards him. The old wolfess had no idea who he was, but he carried himself in such a way that she could tell that he was important. Or at least he had been of some notoriety at some time in his life, maybe not today, here and now. But some are born with the burden of leadership, others seek to take it from others and there are those who will walk with chains around their ankles for the rest of their days. He tries to walk like nothing connects him to this mortal realm, but you cannot fool old Lillyheart my gentleman.

For a moment her heart melts as he draws nearer. He reminds her so much of her beloved Kane her ribcage almost rips apart with grief. The expression is fleeting at best and her face returns to the cold stone like stare. Whatever happened to that black prince of Paracon? Did he settle and have many children with that pretty angel whore of Heyel’s loins? It takes all her willpower to stop the hairs along her spine from rising up her spine. She had not thought about the assassin sire of angels for many, many years. In her opinion, he and his family had always been the biggest threat to all of them.

Judila, and most of the other packs for that matter, their leadership had been chaotic at best and complete anarchy at worst. Personally, she doesn’t remember getting the chance to stand before the Angel King. She wouldn’t have wanted to. He probably would have killed her where she stood. Despite what they may have wanted, Heyel will always be remembered in Moladion. A saint to some, a maniacal tyrant dictator to others. An assassin and a father to many children and many more grandchildren. Parting her jaws slightly, Lillyheart breathes in the strangers scent. She grins at it, there is a newness there, but even now she can detect the faint stench of angel blood. So, that family still lives on to this day? How interesting.

I wonder if I will get to see my own heart before I die? It is a dark thought, but it’s a question that Lillyheart had always wanted to know the answer to. She was born a runt, she was unable to be affected by the magic of imprinting. Nobody had loved her, or at least nobody showed her that they did care for her while she lived on the surface. Was I really born with a dead heart? Even now I can still feel it beating between my lungs. Is it truely darker than the darkest nights? Is it true that I could never feel loved or be loved in return. She shakes her head violently as some buzzing insect flies right past her neck.

White ears swivel towards him as he speaks. His voice is so melodic. It’s a voice she could listen to for the rest of the night. Clicking her tongue against the back of yellow fangs she giggles in response to his question. “Well,” she starts, her old voice cracking with age and from eight years of barely speaking, “unless you have seen my good for nothing son dancing up and down your beach.” Pausing she tilts her head in the direction she had just come from. Half expecting to see that idiot trot around the cove. “Alas,” she coos and grunts as her neck pops painfully as she slowly turns her head back towards this dark gentlemen, “unless you have invited anyone else tonight, then it will be just the two of us.” The tip of her white tail flicks, spraying small droplets of salty water across her ankles. She’s trying to be pleasant, but she was probably failing miserably. Curiously she tilted her head to one side as she stared right through him. Surely, he is not afraid of little old me? She rolls her shoulders casually, the point of her bones clearly poking through her frail skin and thinning coat.

“Come and sit with me,” her tone is more of a demand than a request. Reaching down she precisely takes a fold of shredded skin and peels it back. Pinning the flap under one long white leg, she shifts backwards to give him some room to feed. “There is still … plenty of … food left here.” She pants awkwardly between each shuffle, clearly still tired from the long trek here. Absent-mindedly she stares out at the waves while she patiently waits for him to make his decision.

“Is that a tree? Poking out of the waters?” She asks in a hushed whisper, clearly surprised. Eerie orange eyes then look up and down the coast for as far as they can see. Pointed white ears flick and point in different directions like the albino bat that she was. There was certainly nothing wrong with her hearing and she smirks with amusement, “I thought that Litherum would have had more land than this.”

Returning her gaze back to the gentlemans face there is an expectancy there for a little information regarding the state of this landscape. She was either going to be corrected, or maybe she would receive a guarded response. It didn’t matter to her either way. White tail is now lazily sweeping across the sand behind her, partly aided by the cool waters which were now swirling up and around half her underbelly. A stomach rub is exactly what she needed after that heavy meal.