I Bet You Thought I was Soft and Sweet

Slow were the lyrics that trickled through the odd environment. The massive structure that only, somewhat, stood shattered and broken everywhere had long ago pulled his interest, but it was not a place for wolves-not given the ferocity of winter so far north. His nose wrinkled in distaste as the wind picked up and danced through his coat. It was not devastating; merely displeasing. The Arkhos followed the lyrics of the supple young woman and refused to halt until his eyes were trained easily on her--examining her odd beauty from afar (forget some of how familiar to the Armada she looked). Still, the emperor did not stir with lust for her and he did not wish to make her his own. They came to him not he unto them. "Silly girl," he seemed to purr his sentence before he slipped from hiding in the brush he had trailed through and his teal gaze watched her--waiting. "Pretty girls tend to get harmed so far out here," when they are alone.