The cool crisp air slid tentative fingers through the man's dark, tangled mane, and walked in chills down his spine. He walked with purpose, but none saw him walk, for he was born of the shadows of the trees - A Hunter, a businessman, a dark creature cloaked by his own vanity.
It was too early for much life, but the forest was always alive - The chattering of a squirrel cut short as he passed, the rustling of a bird in her nest stilled as his shadow glided past. These small critters knew the passing of the King, and they respected him with their silence, and their fear.
The sharp olive hue of his eyes was stirred by purpose, and by ambition. There was a madness that lingered in the depths of acidic green - A sheer kind of genius that often bordered on instability. There was not a fool who had met Sirius that had not seen the light to his gaze, and known it for the power that it was. He was not the largest, the strongest, nor the fastest of brutes - But men fell to his silver tongue, knelt to his feet, and fed his voracious ego with their wise submission.
Feeling particularly self-divulgent this day, the Revlis man allowed such thoughts to whirl through the narrow channels of his mind, and pleased by his own arrogance, allowed a mirthless and dangerous smile to twitch at the corners of black lips. It was not long before he came upon his intended destination - He had taken quite a liking to the stables, of late, especially considering his newest toy, the silvery mare Chairo de Luna. The area smelt somewhat of Larkspur, but not even the Arbiter's dusky scent could fully cloak that of the intruder. Lightless pupils narrowed, canny and suspicious, as he came upon the visage of his Ganadero's sister.
Wisteria was beautiful, there was no denying such a thing. Not flawless, no, but still beholden of the kind of sharp beauty that could temporarily steal a weaker man's breath away. Aware that he was still unseen, still cloaked in the shadows out of the woman's piercing gaze, Sirius allowed a ravenous yellow-toothed sneer to temporarily grace his wickedly handsome features.
When he emerged from the trees, it was with an unreadable, blank expression. "My my, if it isn't the lovely Lady Wisteria," His voice, molten candy that oozed with dark promises, lingered deliciously on the cool morning air. Volatile olive eyes graced her curiously, but he halted his approach, waiting instead for her to rise and greet him in the respectful manner to which he had become accustomed.
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