Cerulean Cape take me to your waters, lay me on your shore

Thuringwethil dismissed her curtly, and the shrouded women lifted her veil, visibly saddened by the ending of their tête-à-tête. Her arched, feathered banner hung behind her most pathetically and Indie swept her head to the side and flicked her ears back in a rather dramatic demonstration of her unwillingness to leave. If Thuringwethil truly wanted to leave, Indie would let her — but in the vamp’s own experience, wolves such as this were just begging to be broken down. For someone to provoke them and be persistent, for they were much to restrained in their own actions to do so themselves. Indie was more than happy to provide such services. Overtaking Thuringwethil, Indie dancing around to the front of the quiet woman and unintentionally [or was it intentionally?] blocking her path. Indie studied her her face, making note of its curves and crevices, how the velvet of her cheeks darkened around her eyes.  There was power in her. 

“You must go?” Indie said honestly, a touch a hurt shading her voice. “May I see you again?”