The femme steps across the littered ruins, stopping on occasion only to sniff the air to ensure her safety. She isn't sure what kind of creatures are responsible for creating these ruins, and she doesn't intend on finding out if they still inhabit these parts. Her breath is warm in the cool early morning air, billowing from her dark nostrils as she scans the stone world before her. There is a tangle of scents in the stilness, all wolfish, but they are stale which tells Leera those wolves passed through days ago. Her ears fall against her head in distaste... why was it so difficult to find the packs here? The devout followers? It's true to say that she's dearly missed climbing the ladders of power, but without any wolves to interact with she isn't sure if she'll ever get that chance again. Leera climbs onto a rock ledge and curls into a tight sitting position, her tail draped over her paws as she loses herself in her thoughts. @Circe

Oh, how good it felt to be in the east again! Circe had fled the north as fast as she was able. Gywdion was once again in her possession and it felt good to have him coiled between her shoulder blades again. If Archon insisted upon staying in Boreas she was going to have to find something warm to carry him in before winter. But, she decided as she spied the small figure on the ledge, that was a thought for another day. The desire to acquire and be adored was never far from her mind and so when she spied beautiful little Leera her greedy heart filled with desire. She had no choice but to try and win over the silver beauty. She walked until she was without speaking distance and then stopped, her teal gaze roving appreciatively over the stranger. It took a moment for her to rein it in and present a more neutral front. "I bet you can see for miles up there. See anything interesting?" "Circe" "Gwydion"

Leera settles into the boredom, sitting tall on that ledge, ears pinned against her head. But the woods are not quiet for long, nothing ever quite is in Boreas, she finds. "I bet you can see for miles up there. See anything interesting?" Leera's eyes fall onto the wolfess who stands below, at first annoyed that she hadn't scented the stranger, but as she studies the other her distaste fades almost entirely. Instead of nagging the stranger about interrupting her thoughts, Leera's expression settles into a devilish smirk. The tip of her tail curls thoughtfully. "Not quite, I'm afraid," she purrs, a dark sparkle in her eyes. "But I do see a she-wolf. Strong. Capable." It is true that she's noted the female's build, among other things, like her crystal-colored eyes. "Why don't you come and join me, my love? See for yourself," she crones, voice eerily warm as it travels through the silent quarry. She looks away from the woman now, fixing her eyes on the distance. "Come on, then. Do not keep me waiting." The corner of her maw twitches in a grin. She touches the empty space beside her with a tiny paw, beckoning the stranger closer so that they may be able to speak about bigger things than views.

The corners of Circe's mouth rose slightly in a smirk as the stranger complimented her. Her tone, the glimmer in her eyes, both were good signs. "Do not keep me waiting." Quick with a counter, Circe purred, "I wouldn't dream of it." She glanced around until a way up jumped out at her and then climbed up it. Once atop the ledge Circe fixed her attention firmly on Leera. She didn't look out over their surroundings or at the ground below, just the small silver woman who'd so thoroughly captured her attention. "My dear," she chastised teasingly, "You were wrong. The view up here is spectacular." "Circe" "Gwydion"

Leera watches the female climb to join her, unmoving. Her pink eyes are warm as the other settles; she's quite aware of the attention she's recieving, and rightfully so -- Leera deserves to be gawked at. "You flatter me," she says, nose turning back out to the view that sprawls out so gorgeously before the two wolves. She lets a pause build between them, closing her eyes and feeling the sun on her fur. "I was taught to never overlook the beauty of the natural world. There's so much to be respected of the mountains, the streams, the forests... so much strength in them." She glances at her new companion now. "You agree with me, don't you? My name is Leera."

Circe tipped her head in response to the silver woman's question, but didn't give her a verbal answer immediately. It was clear they'd been taught different things. Conquerors had little time to stop and smell the roses and she had been raised to go and do and strive at all times. There had been no value placed on beauty. It was something she had discovered on her own. "There is strength and beauty in them, yes, but it seems we were taught different things." She moved to claim the spot beside Leera that the smaller female had beckoned her to take moments prior. They were a comical pair; beside Leera, Circe's size was all the more apparent. "My people..." She trailed off as she tried to put her thoughts to words. "See strength not in the things around them but in the ability to claim the things that are beautiful." She quirked a brow at Leera and then introduced herself. "My name is Circe. It's a pleasure, Leera." "Circe" "Gwydion"

"There is strength and beauty in them, yes, but it seems we were taught different things." She smiles softly and tilts her head a degree. "Oh?" It amazes her how every child has a different set of ideals given to them and seems to never outgrow them. Leera listens to the larger women explain, warm magenta eyes trained silently in thought as she watches her face. She thinks about what has been said for a moment, dipping her chin ever so slightly. "My dear Circe, you are right -- there is power in taking. I cannot argue that." No, she can't. All she ever does is take for herself. "There is also power in keeping what has been taken. Defending it from those who want it as well..." she continues, a flicker of something exciting in her eyes. A smirk settles onto her dark lips as she grows silent for a moment. "Do you think you have the guts to keep what you claim?"

With most wolves Circe felt the need to play nice and put on a show, but with this woman she was getting the feeling that she could be herself. Or at least someone closer to who she really was. Leera's question made Circe laugh. While she meant no disrespect to the beauty at her side, the notion that she, the product of the Abraxas Empire, could be gutless was comical. Abraxas pups had been culled for less. Had she shown even the slightest inclination to give into fear she wouldn't have survived infancy. Circe grew serious as she sought out Leera's gaze. "I know I do." She kept the things she laid claim to and she never - no never - shared. It was rarely a side of her that the objects of her attention got to see, but she would kill for them in a heartbeat. The giantess lifted her chin and studied Leera. They were dancing around the real topic and she had yet to decide if she was going to be the one to bring it forward or if she was going to let it play out a little longer. Circe wanted Leera. She'd known that the moment she'd laid eyes on her. But this - while she was being truer to herself today - was still a game and its essence was no different than the one she'd played with Pnuma. She still needed to win. For now she was going to continue to play coy with the real topic. If Leera wanted to break character first she could, otherwise Circe would see just how much ground she could cover while keeping her words veiled. She licked her lips, then said, "What do you think of that? Of those who can keep what they've claimed?" "Circe" "Gwydion"

She sits comfortable, almost languid as her audits catch Circe's words. Like she's always known, Leera is a jewel -- everyone's after her but only the select few could have her. Circe, she thinks to herself, mind clicking over itself like gears in a timepiece, could be worth it. Leera is pleased with the earthen woman's answers. Her easy rose stare falls on the horizon, watching it as she tries to tiptoe her way closer to the endgame that she is certain is being played. "What do you think of that? Of those who can keep what they've claimed?" The wolfess runs her tongue across her dark lips, eyes flickering with intense thought. "Those who can keep what they've claimed?" She tilts her muzzle towards Circe, a smirk growing behind those soft, airy words. "They are the rulers of the world." She stretches, standing, knowing for certain that her womanly ways are working for the better. Leera lets herself circle Circe easily, tail waving seductively as she did so. "Circe, I am no fool," she says. "I know you've come up here for a reason..." All in all, Leera is still unsure about that reason, but she knows Circe's thinking something, too. After all, the darker woman seems rather cunning herself. "What can you give me, dove?"   Lips curl into a Luciferian grin, pink gaze shimmering with every desire in the world.

'The rulers of the world.' How fitting that she would chose those words. Regardless of whether or not you bought into the lore, the Abraxas were meant for such things. Generation after generation of highly motivated "godlings" had seen to it that tenacity and a thirst for power were bred into their descendants. The desire to conquer was as much of a part of them as their mottled coats. Circe watched as the woman circled in front of her and then let her imagination take over as Leera moved behind her. She could hear the little woman's steps, the subtle clicking of her claws on stone. It was time to act. Winter was Circe's season and Leera's gentle teasing may as well have been wildfire to her senses. She could resist no longer. Circe stood and turned to face Leera. Her expression was coquettish as she studied Leera. After a beat she crept closer. "My dear," she reached down in the hopes of tracing the curve of Leera's jaw with her nose. "I'll give you everything." She stepped back. "I like to think of myself as a good judge of character. Of worth. And you? My dear," she said huskily, her gaze making it very clear she was resisting the urge to touch Leera again. "Let me show you what I think you're worth, hm?" "Circe" "Gwydion"