All is Violent, All is Bright [Alarik]

When he had taken a moment to acknowledge her stature he let his eyes meet hers. There was something, a strange light in her eyes, that had him wanting to shiver. But he suppressed it. This woman reminded him of the woman he had briefly run into last season, the one that had mistaken him for a member of some other family. Abramis? Abraxas? Something like that. And of course Alarik had politely corrected her, told her that he belonged to another family entirely.

The woman, whose name had been Mercy, had an attitude about her very similar to this woman here. Some sort of menacing quality, predatorial. It put Alarik a bit on edge. And so did her sarcastic response. But he gave her the most geniune smile he could manage, because he was nothing if not a gentleman. "I would never dream of it," the young man responded. "And I apologize for disappointing you, but I did not follow you in here either," he said. "I caught your scent while exploring and came to see if you needed help. But you don't seem the type to require any assistance."

But still. He never failed to be polite, even when interacting with the kind of women that made him feel like a mouse under the gaze of a cat. "Alarik Xanilov," he said, lowering the crown of his head to her as he introduced himself.