It was a most curious thing to watch her move. Her paw was a complete mess. A white wench fraught with weakness. A perfect toy for a game with no goal. She held the pelt of a Angel, yet when she turns ti him, it is obvious she is tainted by the black of demons. He observes her movements with his eyes of blaring yellow plastered with orange-violet, taking in the weakness of her mangled paw. How strangely her own toes crush themselves. He had seen it before, in others. She likely feels nothing in that paw. At least, that is what he sees at the moment. Maybe he is wrong. Maybe she is trying to fool him by acting weakened, and yet, there are no lies in the fresh scars upon her frame.
His dark smile continues on his scarred features, a grim tail of battles past told through the constant exposure of his deadly fang. He keeps his strong, muscular form in a position dominant, one that shows he is not afraid of anyone, or anything. Perhaps he is foolish and arrogant, but his recent climb to be the Demon Lord was not something to sneeze about. He was a proud beast, one marked in black and blood, scars and marks of masochistic pleasure. He is impressive to many, built as a warrior in bulk, but sleek enough that one would second guess trying to outrun him. All he needs is that moment...that one moment of hesitation before he strikes.
In this moment he was not acting as the snake sneaking upon prey. He was curious, in this moment, of her mangled state. Like a cat watching a mouse stumble around. She speaks then, his red-tipped ears flicking forward when unexpected words pour from her vile white mouth. She had challenged Kane for his crown? The wolf of night who beds with the Angels? His eyes seem to glow with interest like the rising sun, one corner of his lips pulling back into a smirk.
"Unfortunate that he took the life from your paw. Surely you took something of his own? I need more friends who want him and his kind dead. Tell me, why is it you seek Diveen, the vile land of Angel breeding?" he commanded, his black limbs of demonic perfection moving a bit closer, his form of darkness moving like a haunted shadow to investigate her further. He would round her completely, while keeping a respectful distance. His eyes would carefully browse over her entire stature and frame, like a someone seeking to find every flaw and every strong point. Her pelt is unfortunate, a glaring scar on her whole entire frame. A thing that cannot be changed, but that does not exactly mean she is an Angel. She could be of great use to the demons, even if she refuses to align with them. Andras does not mind using others to achieve the goal of the demons, and after he rounds her with his impressive strides, he comes before her once again, with a grin most mysterious.
He takes in her scent, something so sweet and lovely, as most females have a scent irresistible to smell. He can see the way she looks at him, a look he got from many, and a look he cannot act upon any longer. He did tend to prefer the look of fear as he overpowers the weaker of females, but there is something different about those who actually appreciate his frame and sense of sick pleasure. Despite being tied to Lillith for life, it doesn't mean he wouldn't use attraction to his advantage to get him what he wants. He awaits her words, his demon-touched auds waiting for her response.