Word Count » 5+
The woman did not look to him at first, and though the male experienced a familiar rush of superiority, there was also a strange longing within him to see her troublesome rose eyes. The Witch had hands stained with blood, and although the Revlis man was not repulsed by the liquid, the uncleanliness made his nose twitch once - the smallest gesture of dissatisfaction that her marbled gold coat was marred by the sticky ruby.
She spoke, and accented warble warmed his blood once more. Intrigued, the serpentine gaze of Sirius followed the woman's deft, precise movements, admiring the arch of her body and the lean muscles and curves of her form with surreptitious dominance.
At last she rose, and came to him, as was his right. An arrogant pillar, Sirius remained with arms crossed over his chest, trying to ignore the irritating ache issuing from his abused ribcage. Beneath her violently flowering gaze, so rich as the sweetest of wines, his body tensed - A muscle in his face twitched as she leaned close, the pixie tilting her head about his body to get a closer look of the strange deer-like tuft that was now the remainder of his handsome tail. A pang of disappointment went through the vain male, but it did not last long. He knew his body to be appealing, and the scars and deformations served only to show the events which he had survived.
It was difficult to remain nonchalant to her close inspection, and the nearness of her frame was almost vulgar. A lesser woman would surely have been punished for such insolence, but the Crone, as appointed physical and spiritual healer, could be forgiven for such blatant staring.
The flow of exotic tones made his large ears swivel forward toward the woman, then backward in silent dismissal of the event. Her churlishly fond name-calling was lost on him, for her language was unknown to the Boss, who spoke French and Italian but not the passionate Spanish of her barbed tongue. The brooding, sulking look returned to handsomely dark features. "Trouble indeed. A creature with meaner moods than your own, Tlantli. Was a fair fight, but not an easy one." The poisonous, sharp smile returned to him almost instantly at the refreshed taste of victory. Her sweetly muttered words were ignored, for they were no use to him.
Knowing better than to offer to take the bobcat from her, the dark man's bobbed tail wagged again once, albeit eagerly this time. "Come with me to my den," A command, not a question, although the sultry look to his hungry reptilian eyes suggested otherwise, "I wish to show you what became of he who took my tail." With a gentlemanly wave of his arm, a gesture to usher her forward and into step with him, the Salsolan king made the Crone an offer she couldn't possibly refuse. He had a task for her, also, but business could come after pleasure.
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