I am one with the animal inside

Grey and blue eyes watched, hungrily eating in the scene that unfolded before her like some grand play. From the moment that she met Alastor, Scylla had known that there was a beast within him. She had simply been looking for an opportunity to see that beast firsthand. The black and red giant didn't disappoint her.

Though Scylla would take pleasure in stealing the lives of the poachers, it brought her greater pleasure to watch Alastor be free. She was quite capable of being civilized, but there was something about following ones baser nature that thrilled the Klein fae. To bring about death was the most natural thing in the world. To protect ones home was also natural. To set an example for any others that might get the idea to try their paw at the same, well... that was just a bonus.

The snapping of bones and the squelching of blood and guts filled the air like music and Scylla released a small sigh of pleasure akin to one that a normal wolf might release when thinking of a lover. Yes, she was abnormal, but she knew that and she didn't care. Only around one with equally bloody taste was she able to breathe and let down the carefully cultivated mask. Wouldn't Albion and Cerberus be shocked if they saw her like this? Of course they would.

In time, Alastors bloody spree came to an end, but only because there were no more breathing bodies aside from her own. Scylla had no doubt that the man would go through an army of wolves if they'd been in front of him. It was a pity that there hadn't been more poachers. The striped fae could have watched the bloodshed forever.

From her place upon the rock, Scylla watched. The end of the show had brought Alastor somewhat close to her location. Close enough for him to hear her anyway. The little woman cracked a grin, her chin resting on one outstretched foreleg. The fae's long tail slithered back and forth languidly across the stone behind her. "You looked like you needed that. Do you feel better?" Mismatched ears swiveled forward to catch any words that he might speak. Scylla continued to lay there like some satiated, sun baked feline, though her gaze was all for Alastor. She wouldn't make a move out of respect for the man's wife, whom she quite liked, but if he made a pass at her, well... how could she ever say no to that?

"Scylla"