Is Erövrare fragile? Leera watches him, thinking. She'll be lying if she says the pack is completely weak, although other than a few mean-spirited wolves here and there she doesn't believe Erövrare is indestructible. But she says nothing in answer, leaving his question up in the air for him to decide -- there are worse things than fragility.
The end of her feline tail flicks wordlessly as Ezio moves deliciously closer, so close she can see the iciness of his blue eyes and the details of his scarring. She tastes his scent on the air and relishes it like a rich whisky, keeping her stare fixed on him. "You can be whoever you wish to be," she purrs with a smokiness on her lips. The longer their encounter spans, the more she becomes intrigued by him. Curious of him. Of the things he has done, the things he may do.
"Did you no longer want to be a lone wolf then, Leera?" An ear turns with thought. But eventually, Leera gives a small, dismissive shake of her small, angular head. "It's not the way I was created. As much as I enjoy the thrill, my soul needs to belong to something, almost as much as I need things to belong to me." Her voice is soft but strong in the forest light, and she watches him with interest. Her tone hushes even further, and the speaks it directly into one of his ears, so close to him that she's certain he can feel the brush of her long whiskers against his fae. "Would you ever belong to something, Ezio? Would you ever belong to me?"
speech action
Leera is a mature character.
Force/violence is permitted within reason.
Plot with us here!
