He reacts perfectly. She always appreciated someone that could play the game in return, instead of forcing her to make all the moves. It was amusing to be completely in control, but it became dull and monotonous when it happened every time. She has not fooled him, and she can see that, even without reaching into his mind. It shows in the knowing glint in his feline eyes, and in the way which his line is delivered. It sparks a laugh from her tongue, silver and sickeningly sweet. ”Psychopath seems like an awfully strong word,” and she slips forward a few steps, the glowing constellations of her side glittering with the roll of her muscles as she moves, and she says with a quirk of her brow and a mock nonchalance, ”I guess it must just be my low self-esteem, then.” Another sigh, though it is accentuated with a cheshire-cat smile. She had her insecurities – more than she would ever admit, and so for as long as she has been alive, she has crafted a facade to keep them hidden. She buried them all beneath layers upon layers of pretty smiles and even prettier lies, until she was so full with her own deceit she almost didn’t notice the void that still lay beneath.
She watches the relaxed and lazy way in which he stretches, and perhaps it is foolish of her to feel no fear when he settles just a few feet from her. She might ignorantly see herself as an equally matched predator of sorts, though certainly she would think better of it should those teeth ever find themselves sinking into her flesh. He incites another laugh from her, and with a shake of her head she looks up with her glittering blue eyes and says tauntingly, ”What makes you think I would reveal anything to you, prisoner?” But the smile that is threaded so loosely across her lips reveals that she is not at all irritated by his prying questions; there wasn’t much to risk being revealed anyway. ”If Vulgaris chose to take my advice, that’s not really my fault, is it?” Of course not. She didn’t wield the necessary power to force anyone into doing anything. All she could do was plant the seeds in their minds, and water and nurture them until they bloomed.
Or, alternatively, let them die because she forgot, or lost interest.
When she watches the pale lion, she cannot help but to wonder what kind of seeds would do well in his mind. She studies him discreetly, admiring the raw power that lay within the compact mass of his lion frame, and she cannot help but to wonder if he is just as fearsome in his equine form. But moreso, she is intrigued by his mind. He is clearly angered and irritated at being here, which is not surprising. But there is something to be said for the way he was able to carry on a smart and bantering conversation instead of resorting to slinging insults, or shutting down entirely. ”You must miss Hyaline, but don’t worry,” She pauses, with that artful tilt of her head to steady her gaze with his, and that same rolling purr of her voice when she continues, ”You’ll be back in your sanctuary home soon enough. I’m sure your sentence will fly by.”
@[litotes]
