A trick question. One only truly answered by fools. Her absence had been a quick one it felt. Few mere months and he was already itching for her to give into him like sand into the ocean. "Why my dearest Morty I am no one's." She whispers, maw affectionaetly brushing over his cheek as she watches him, eyes alert with that of her next move. "Though for the sake of calling a Jack a Spade, Yes.. Yes I am yours Modicum." Her son, their son, moves towards them, his walk like that of his parents. Powerful in a graceful way (as graceful as any child could be) yet he does not speak. He listens, a quality much respected by his painted dam. "As for the boy... I shall let you choose dearest. You do have the greatest sense of judgment." She purrs, eyes rolling over the clown king's frame. Oh how she had missed her dearest Morty! "I trust you will find the perfect companion for our Zade." Her lips pull into a wicked grin as she glances at her son who stood so sleepily at her side. His ears perk, a swift movement and he is speaking for the first time, his voice like that of summer rain. Soft and wavering. "Papa?" And he is staring at the ink colored stag before him, eyes wide with an assesing glare.
Lillith Elvira
cruel intentions