Lamia patiently attending Grimoire’s curiosity of her upbringing made her day, but the next event sprung her fickle mind into out right euphoria. She earlier expected to find two wolves worth calling predators, but their perfect alignment towards the edge of insanity was more admirable than she expected. Lamia commanded the space she occupied as a master of the mists.This male was the slinking toad she enjoyed knowing was nearby. For a rainy day, of course, in case she should find herself in need of a little extra sustenance.

Her hunting partner’s facetious question brought a wave of enjoyment over Grim, who wriggled slightly in show of her amusement. His response was unexpected, by only served to strengthen Grimoire’s idea of his thieving character. Her manic grin melted away while her ears twitched at his clever ploy. Since he would surely be captured, he was going to try and bargain his way to safety? What sort of girl did he think she was? The sane sort?! Ha! Oh… he’d pegged her for a thrill seeker. Damn - he’d nailed it.

Tempted enough, Grimoire barked, ”A pound each wouldn’t make up the loss if we were to let you hop away, toady.”

She shifted her gaze from the clever boy behind him to meet Lamia’s eyes and ask, ”Have you got the time to hunt for this charlatan in a season?”

If Lamia didn’t… well, this little toady may be out of luck. She’d found a hunting partner, and she wasn’t willing to give up the opportunity to bond over common interests with her. Especially now, when it seemed her hunch about their shared Demon heritage was on the money. Now… her brain bugged her with the question about who Lamia was related to? Perhaps the famous Andras or Lillith? Royalty seemed to ooze from her every step. Grimoire had no way of knowing, though; she’d only ever seen the alpha pair in the theater of her thoughts.