Bitchy. An ear flicks at the word, smile growing. If speaking the truth makes her a bitch, then she's certainly a big one. She listens to the lull of syllables as the goddess tries the name, Leer-ah, and decides she likes her name right there, right in between the teeth of this woman. She can hold it there forever if she pleases.
In turn, Leera is given a name as well. A pause stretches in between the two wolves, silent but teeming with everything from sexual tension to pure envy -- or is it hatred? -- before she handpicks the words she chooses to spin for the woman. "Nephthys, I do not believe in gods," she calls gently, almost like a mother to her writhing child. Her dark chin lifts and her eyes watch the oaken female with stead.
Leera stands easily, her small body moving with the grace of owls. On her paws, she notes the size difference even more -- if it comes to tooth and claw, Nephthys has the upper hand. She sets her ears against her crown and steps after the girl. "You say there's godsblood in your veins... I say that's the strength of a woman. It'll do you good to learn the difference." Her tiny paws all but disappeared into the plush of golden sand as she walks alongside her new companion. "Tell me something. What do your gods teach you about ruling an empire?" She is curious to see if the girl has any brains at all when it comes to queenship.
Leera is a mature character.
Force/violence is permitted within reason.
Plot with us here!
