FUELED BY HATRED

"Speech." Thought. 1117.


As her summoning howl subsided, drawing the woman into an eerie silence since her call hushed the crickets that had previously been chirping around her, she began to pace the grassy face of the clearing, her muzzle pointed downward and her steps swift as she mused over what had just occurred approximately half an hour ago. How would the boy take to it when she announced his fate? Surely it would not go well due to the short fuse she had been warned he possessed, but she contemplated over whether or not the young male would be so enraged that he'd lash out at her. If he did, there was no doubt in her mind that she would retaliate in the worst of ways, though she would do her best to refrain from maiming him, as he was no longer a part of Tortuga and was not subject to their brutal torture. If she had happened to dish out major injuries to the boy if he reacted in the way she could only expect him to, then there would be repercussions with Valhalla that Tortuga was not nearly prepared for. Not at that moment in time, anyway.


A halt in her pacing was made as her ears twitched with the sound of nearby pawsteps, and she pivoted to face the direction it had emanated from, neutrality washing over her bloodstained visage that had formerly portrayed bitterness as she awaited Neo's presence. He trotted in at a brusque pace, a blissful bound in his step that the white witch only assumed was there because of the new mate he had acquired. His scent was evidently encased with the strong perfume of Luce, another Tortugan female that Morphine believed to be deceiving the young male whom she had beckoned. How far was the woman willing to go to completely brainwash the young male? Or had she actually fallen for the infatuated whelp?


Whelp was an understatement -- Neo had filled out quite decently since his arrival at Tortuga. He seemed to have obtained some muscle to his otherwise lanky figure; perhaps he was taking himself seriously in his duties and desired to truly aid Tortuga in any way he possibly could. If she had not been shrouded with the new worries that now plagued her mind, she might have commended him on his efforts or even his new wife, but she was far too absorbed in those horrid thoughts to do so. As he called her name out, his vocals cheerful, her tail swept upwards in greeting from its position sticking straight out from her rump and retained the lifted stance as she assumed superiority over the Raekar, her ears swiveling forward as he inquired the reason for his summon. She did not speak immediately, but rather took one last moment to gather her thoughts, building a dramatic suspense in the process.


"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I figured you'd rather hear from me rather than a secondhand source on what has occurred." Her vocals were laced with a solemnity that her interior lacked, though she figured she was far too convincing with her facade for the male to depict the true emotion that lingered within her. She averted her gaze from the male's, her silver and metallic eyes losing their glitter as she made her way over towards the brute, step by step, her gait lumbering. "There was a call for the higher-tiered of Tortuga to the battlefield about an hour ago: a challenge for a member of ours from the Valhallan king." She paused then, allowing that information to sink into the boy's brain. She had provided him with limited information on purpose; she wanted him to believe that his former king desired to have him back into Valhallas ranks -- to grant him a glimmer of hope that his family truly wanted him back, and then to take it away so abruptly that he lost the iota of respect he still held for them, if any. "Now, I was sure they wanted you; you're family, are you not? If they loved you, they ought to have wanted to fight for your release. But I was shocked when I arrived on the scene to find the king challenging for Cyanide: a complete stranger to him! Hm! It's peculiar...how intent he was on having her when he knew you resided with us as well..." She trailed off, her pupils dragging to meet with the boy's again as she awaited his reaction to the matter. She desired disappointment and rage, but would the male supply her with it?


Regardless of his reaction, she'd continue, now within feet of where Neo stood. "You were brought into the conversation via Nnoitra, who claimed how you thrived in our ranks, how much potential you truly possess, how happy you are to be residing within Tortuga with your new wife. It was after Nnoitra relayed your happiness that another Valhallan piped up, challenging for you. She seemed important somehow, though she was young... Brown face, blue eyes," she described the girl idly, wanting him to be able to recognize the woman she spoke of, hoping the bitch meant something to the boy. "It made me wonder: do they want you to be miserable? I mean, they only wanted you once they heard how satisfied you were with your new life... Who would want their family to be unhappy?" she shook her head in disbelief at this, displaying her discontent with the whole matter for the male. She was doing an adequate job thus far in her own mind, she just hoped the boy was playing her game the way she wanted him to.


"Kaien was outraged with her challenge and immediately stood up to fight for you, but, as I was already battling for Cyanide, Nnoitra did not wish for the both of us to be injured at once. That would leave us vulnerable, you see, to have two alphas hurt at once," she explained for the male in case he would somehow see to object to the partial lie she had conjured. "Nnoitra is old..." she spoke tentatively after a good pause, the tone in her voice dropping to one of sorrow, and she averted her gaze from Neo again. "I'm sorry to inform you this, but the girl has defeated Nnoitra... You are Valhalla's again." She concluded her speech with a sigh, carefully bracing herself, but making certain not to make any abrupt movements to clue the boy to her apprehension. She was not finished with the boy, of course, but she awaited his response, her attention never wavering from his body and facial features.