There is leeway for escape { however momentary } from her obligations as Elysium tyrant, and she seizes the fleeting opportunity for selfish purpose -- craving but a leisurely moment away from the proximities of her shadowed crypt and fiendish advocates. The desire to encounter her little demon is intensified within the chasms of her obsessive mind, and the phantom queen finds herself traipsing beneath the looming foliage of her birthing grounds, senses alert as she attempts to pinpoint the carmine beauty with avid pupils. Twilight encumbers her surroundings in complete darkness, not even the faint silver pallor of the moon visible beneath the obscurity of dark clouds whose threat of vehement storms is prominent in their density -- though the Elysius is undeterred by such prospects, focused entirely upon her mission of locating Covari?s nubile princess.

He has taken to exploring closer to pack-lands, not particularly worried of trespassing. He is perhaps the biggest creature most of these wolves will seen, judging by the few wolves he's encountered. He saunters through the woods, his giant form moving with an eerie grace, and he pauses as a familiar scent reaches him. The little imp. Curiosity draws him through the inky shadows and towards her. Molten gaze picks out her angelic coat in the darkening sky, and he approaches with little care for startling her. "Out exploring alone, little imp?" He inquires, his voice is a deep baritone rumble. He halts a few feet from her, his eyes lingering on her with an almost bored expression. His tail moves lazily behind him, not in an excited motion- but rather a relaxed sweeping motion before he lies still in the air.

Triangular ears careen atop the sloped contours of her crown as she registers the familiar cacophony of footfalls, pallid skull rotating in its direction while her mismatched gaze ravages the premises in hopes of pinpointing her carmine beauty. Alas, avid pupils instead fall upon the behemoth { and faintly obscured } physique of a titan -- lackadaisical stride obstructed as the tenor of his vocals shatter the silence of the thick atmosphere, piquing her interest accordingly. A tentative smirk encumbers her porcelain features as recognition strikes, hips pivoting as she intends to face the lurking monster of whom she had found favor towards during their last encounter. ?If I didn?t know any better, I?d have thought you were following me,? is the saccharine statement that cascades so smoothly from velvet lips, decadent incisors flashing in a grin as she turns her countenance upon his own. Though it was not a farfetched assumption to make; it was he who had stumbled upon her path twice now, after all.

ooc: aly is making me dig out my thesaurus. dem awesome big words gurl. ;D


The male remain apathetic, as the pallid wraith turned towards him. No expression would slip past his mask of neutrality, as she speaks. He suffocates the desire to chuckle at her assumptions, and remains quiet for a few long moments. Ebony lids fall over his molten gaze, and he quietly speaks. "And if I am?" He questions her. What would she do, if he was indeed following her. Perhaps he'd follow her anywhere he chose. He took a breath, she smelled different now- like a pack wolf. A smile breaks his mask, "In our brief meeting- I didn't take you for a mere pack wolf." He says lightly, no she seemed to ambitious to take another's commands. He waits, for her to answer him, wondering if she will rise to his taunts.

He is silent, enigmatic -- and the phantom deity is no different than he. A soft chortle erupts from slackened jaws as the titan encourages her own pretentious beliefs, and she saunters closer towards him, robust physique serpentine while she encroaches upon his proximities -- almost tauntingly. ?Then you aren?t doing a very good job of it; I?ve only seen you twice now,? the wraith states pointedly, amethyst and silver gaze boring intensely into his own molten, which flicker with the faintest trace of mischief. At his next words, the tyrant scoffs, shoulders rolling back in their sockets, defiantly. ?I?m not,? the Elysius protests, chin elevating slightly in a display of unwavering pride and confidence. ?-- I?m the queen,? is the proclamation that baits the air, irrefutable in nature. She has every right to the arrogance which laces her speech { at least, in her own biased eyes she is deserving of it }; she has bled on multiple occassions for the metaphorical crown which halos her temples, and she will continue to bleed for her empire until her dying breath.

aho, she is witty, her words reach him and he chuckles the sound breaking his stoic mask of neutrality, as it echoes around them. soft humor twinkles in his molten gaze, though it is perhaps indistinguishable from the fire that also burns within. "i'm not sure whether i should be delighted or offended that you think i'm a bad stalker." he muses aloud, his lips curling up in a mock snarl. her shoulders roll, and her head raises at his lingering comment, and his interest piques. a queen? "a queen? so you carry a crown loosely on your head to command subservient fools?" he questions, though there is no mocking to his tone, rather open curiosity. "or do you command an empire worth following?" he questions. he has seen many queens and kings fall- their crowns shattering a top their heads, as the jewels crash to the ground, and he cannot help but wonder if perhaps this queen is different- or if she is the same fools, they were.

Upon her false ridicule he succumbs to mirth, a singular ear flicking atop her crown as baritone laughter infiltrates the air, intertwining with the faint rumble of thunder overhead -- the heralding trumpet of the impending storm. Mock offense is regarded with the bewitching smirk that extends across her porcelain countenance, mismatched gaze of vibrant amethyst and silver rolling in their sockets with feigned exasperation. At her announcement, she garners his attention with evident intrigue, though his speech lacks that of congratulatory intent and serves to challenge her well-deserved authority. Abstract gaze hardens upon his molten as the emotion dissipates from her countenance, indignation flaring beneath the surface of taut flesh as she pierces him with a cold and menacing stare. ?Do you take me for an incompetent D R E G ?? she questions incredulously, the tone of her vocals laced with potent venom; but her indifferent guise is maintained despite the bubbling inferno raging upon her interior. ? -- Or must I prove you otherwise?? The subtle threat baits the air like silk, and yet, she cannot help but feel he already knows the answer and only means to infuriate her.

Gods, she is so easy to infuriate. He finds himself desperately amused. Mirth bubbles from his jaws at her words, and he shrugs- his shoulders rolling. "Ah, incompetent, I think not- perhaps a bit brave for one your size.." A smirk paints itself on his jaws, and he narrows his eyes. "Oh Ms. Elysius, is that a threat?" He mutters darkly, though his eyes are light with the humor he feels at being threatened by the little imp. "One would think you weren't very sure of yourself, imp. So easily agitated by a creature like me" His tone is gently scolding, as if he's disappointed in her. Truly he isn't, he's more intrigued by her fiery temper and quick wit. His claws dig into the ground, as he moves to stretch, nearly dainty for a giant his size. Its nearly a disregard for her and any threat she could pose, as he leans back on his hind legs, stretching his forelegs in front of him, in a near bow.

Mock ridicule swathes his speech, and the deity finds herself wholly unamused by the sentiments he offers; mismatched eyes narrowed to thin slits with palpable contempt as she sears him with the intensity of her gaze. And yet, despite his power to infuriate her, the queen is none too keen upon assaulting him { a fact she would never admit to }, for she finds herself transfixed within his presence -- and uncharacteristically so. Regardless, her indifferent facade is unyielding even as the behemoth yet again comments upon her diminutive apex, amethyst and metallic gaze flashing violently as she surpasses the urge to defend her honor against such disdainful words. ?No,? is the dangerous syllable that erupts from slackened jaws in response to his inquiry, the ghost of a smirk creeping up upon her visage as her posture straightens accordingly. ?It is a promise, Mister --? the phantom falters, the wry grin ebbing away from her features only to be replaced by a contemplative frown. ?Mister -- ?? she reiterates, a singular brow quirking upon her forehead, demandingly.

Perhaps he only hangs around, almost hoping to bump into her because she is so easy to rile up? A wicked grin pulls at his lips as he eggs or on, trying to provoke her into something. She hasn't given into the brash desire of bloodshed at his irking behavior yet, which is very amusing to him. As she speaks, his head tilts ever so slightly to the left, and her nearly smirks as she stumbles- no knowing his last name. "Sovari, Ms. Elysius." He supplies, never skipping a beat as his molten eyes stare her down. He is clueless to the existence of any of his kin in this land- let alone what they could be up too here, or the enemies they could make. The giant shook his head slightly, ruffling the thick scruff around his neck as he did so. "Is this a promise you intend on keeping?" He prompts his tone light. Teasing her, is perhaps the lightest the brooding male has felt in the longest. She reacts so easily to it- its simply to easy to pass up.