(458) loolll. eris loves itachi; itachi intimidates the fuufufuf out of me. :c also lol omg eris y u so weird at itachi
She did not think anyone who would run with her Salsola would harbor some deep hatred for her; the sable-hued woman no doubt underestimated the wide world in this, but it would not seem Itachi was amongst those. She was not immune to betrayal, though she had not experienced it where it was something such as her own pack. Itachi, however, was Sirius's right hand, his axe of justice and sword of retribution. Eris did not know if this meant Itachi would inherit Salsola when the day came that Sirius no longer lead it, but she thought by the time Sirius was ever retired or deposed of his rank, he would be very old indeed, as would even this blonde pup before her. He was not even so old yet as to bear children, the sable woman thought, suddenly struck by just how young Itachi was. It had eluded her before, but now, faced with him, it was undeniable.
Hoping such surprise did not show on her generally reserved face, the sable woman cocked an ear to his answer, seeming to mull over it for too long a moment, having no response or rebuttal. There was nothing in his tone to indicate lies, but there was nothing else to indicate truth. It was flat and empty as the desert plains she remembered so well, having trudged across them. His expression had not given so much as the slightest twitch, no more indication of his meaning than his tone, and this frustrated her, though she swallowed it sharply and settled down slowly, coming to rest a few feet before him. She had seen him stick his shiny knife through the ribs of one who might have been very close to him, very close indeed, but she did not fear him. She could no more change the date and method of her death than she could a second of her past.
Though her gaze did not leave him, she said nothing, and wondered if he would not speak, as well. It would not have surprised her an iota if the pale boy remained utterly and completely silent. She wished to see nonetheless, and once more a pang of longing for the shadow lurking in him twisted through her stomach. Her face was a strained attempt at the quiet his visage conveyed so naturally, and slowly, the faintest hint of a pleased smile showed across her features, perhaps in response to his answer, perhaps in response to his invitation to sit on her own territory, perhaps still in simple amusement. Her eyes remained painfully hardened, glittering pale emerald shards embedded into the onyx of her face, while all the while the ivory of her teeth showed more and more.
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