Ring the knell and Death will answer

In her inebriated state, Lurid could not help her gaze intensifying as the red devil drank from his bottle. The dark color of the wine was lost in his pelt, making a lecherous grin spread over her face. The moonlit goddess didn't care if she caught her looking like she wanted to feast on him, she had no other attachments to mind anymore. Her ears felt hot, her throat dry, and the wine was not quenching her thirst any longer. Instead, she had other things on her mind, like how this man stood before her and drank more than enough to catch up to her. Follow the leader indeed. "Est occasio specialis. Domi es." She spoke eloquently, dual-toned vocals almost husky in nature thanks to the alcohol. Her first language came more naturally to her as she drank more of the wine.

The dark red she had picked out spilled lightly down her lip, staining her pelt a bit, though blood red had always looked damn good on her. He asked if she wished to stay in his rooms or go to her own more opulent cabin, making the Blodreina smile. "Recedere ad cubiculum meum possumus." With a flick of her tail to rest above her hips, Lurid moved to go to her room with a gentle drunken sway to her steps, fully expecting her Sheidheda to follow her. Once in her cabin, Lurid hopped up onto the bed she had made for herself, the springs of her soft mattress protesting softly. She laid out a wolf pelt for him to lay on beside her, patting the bed to tell him it was okay to join her. There were couches and other sitting areas within the captain's quarters, but she preferred the softness of her own bed. "Come sit with me, Requiem." The way she said his name said everything he needed to know, in her drunken state she would not hide it. The attraction was a powerful thing, and Lurid was not one to shy away from it. Alastor was likely not alive and if he was he had probably moved on after all this time. Why should she live in the past when the present was her favorite color and much more handsome? She had made up her mind, no longer would she hold to the ghost of Alastor, vows or no vows; she had a life to live.