Breath rose off of his tongue like a plague, its very existence a farce and an insult. He was an relentless malice, a sleepless hate that extends across all beings. He was more than a man, he was a God, an idea that lingers in the backs of the heads of frighten babes. A murky, terrible shadow he chased away the light. The exiled King had been silent for several months, if only to allow his deeds to sink in with the populace. The incubus could not be sure who approched, as he had no idea what voice it was that had called to him, the poison starting to kick in. It was deep and feminine, but utterly foreign. This was not Ramses who summoned him, but a wholly different beast entirely. The stranger's scent was of ash and sand. Someone else would seek to see him dead today? Why? A gurgle of laughter bubbled up past his black lips. Did men need reasons? This one must thought herself powerful, in a position to deal justice as he felt something being thrown at him. What was justice, though, if not poetry? Within moments Ramses slinked across the ground like a viper, his frame contorting with the rocks, taking his time to make it to the stranger. Darkness embraced his firey pelt, giving him the luxury to advance slowly. He pressed his flank into the ground, soaking in its age and dismal destruction. His pores oozed decay. "Don't get clo-ssser..." the snake voice was a cruel whisper, a cold knife in the back of his throat. It drifted from him like smog, rising up from the rocks with greater intensity as he crested the incline to the terrain, wraping himself around the fallen Deity. Danger shown in his black eyes and he lusted for battle, fore he was the protector. This stranger, whose motives were as unknown to both Ramses and the incubus, as much as her name was, was one amongst many spectators. "his name is not of importance to you, creature."
" words of a god"
"ramses"
