SKYWARD

She had looked towards Deteste for an answer but as Isardis continued with his interjections, the woman found her gaze fixating itself onto the pale ghost, the corners of her lips turning upwards in a small, secret smirk. Her audits flicked idly as he spoke, only the steady attentiveness of her posture and gaze giving clue that she was indeed still listening. As he concluded his spiel a dark chuckle rose from her chest, smile widening with mischief. His words had fed her a confidence that she needed, that she had craved. The lass cast only a fleeting glance at Deteste before her own lips parted to speak.



"Had I known the moon would make such dastardly assumptions, I would have been more... specific about my intentions," she crooned, voice soft but firm. She paused, lingering on her words for a moment before continuing. Anyone else would have been angry with the icy king--most of his words had been blatant disrespect towards her very existence.



"I am no sheep to be herded, Isardis. You of all wolves, I feel, should know very well that one does not lay an ambush by proclaiming it to the world," came her steady words. She paused to allow another chuckle to briefly quake her form. "One must blend, one must gain trust..." Another pause. "And then, one must strike.



"So, in answer to your bold request, Isardis... I accept."

"speech"