and he was just like a great dark wing

He didn't usually drink like this, it put her on edge, or might have, if her blood wasn't already thrumming with anticipation. This had probably been simmering since their very first encounter, fated, or cursed to end up at this exact moment in time. The accusations rolled off her like water off a ducks back. Her eyes narrowing ever so slightly, taunting smirk pulling at the corner of her lips, despite the obvious threat in his posture, his proximity to her throat. “I ran into an old friend,” she didn't often articulate her words. If he could hear through the ringing of rage in his ears he might even pick up on the hint of a purr. "We had a lot o' catchin' up ter do...”

Her muscles coiled and she tipped her head to present Dread with her antlers as she tried to get her feet beneath her. Laying down so casually had put her at a disadvantage but she doubted he meant to kill her, not matter how fiery the alcohol made his blood. “S'not like yer've shown any interest,” There she was, taunting again. She even threw in a batt of her eyes for good measure as she simpered, “Really, what's a girl ter do?”

Lips pulled back from her own teeth then in a snarl, daring him to give her his best shot.

She didn't belong to anyone.

“Speech”