He played her game well without a doubt. He talked a good game, attempting to sway her into a great challenge. But she would merely chuckle. She was no fool. He would snap the moment his beloveds blood was spilled. Her sickening laughter would fill the air once more. This was just far too much fun. "Kylar, baby." Her words were soft, tossed easily over her shoulder, her coral gaze clashing with her husbands only briefly before flickering to their prisoner. Spill her blood. Would he understand her silent message? She didn't doubt it. They had been together far to long not to understand what the other wanted. Her gaze would flicker back to Crucifix, amused at the man beside him and his fumbling control. She was going to break him. "Tell me, would you willing trade your follower, for your darling woman?" Her gaze would jump between the two of them, her crown tipping slightly to the left in question. Would he? Was he wiling to make the sacrifice for his love? What would his little minion think of her idea?
But he wanted a fight. His defenses slide into place, as though he thought she would attack him. Her eyes narrowed, ears pinning against her skull. Her lips twisted into a snarl, her head leveling with her spine while her chin tucked against her throat. Hackles bristled, her legs spread equidistant and bent at the joint, her weight evenly distributed across all four limbs. Her tail was straight and level with her spine, toes splayed and claws dripped the earth. Broad shoulders rolled forward, and her neck scrunched, pushing extra fat around fur around her vitals. She would happily supply him with a fight. But he would have to come to her. Again. Adrenaline rushed her system. "I'll be the judge of who's blood is sweeter." She would murmur, her words were soft, as though she was speaking to a lover. Her eyes rested carefully on his features, peering down her nose at him.
"Speech"
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