Overture Downs there is no exquisite beauty without some strangeness

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The man's unblinking eyes and devilish smirk were barely visible through Nimue's blurred vision, but his unearthly cackle had not gone unnoticed. She merely tilted her head at the noise, expression unphazed and ears perking to process the sound. Being a wolf borne of strangeness herself and having been exposed to a wide variety of travelers, she could not say the sound was abnormal, for normal had simply never existed to her, but she still found his seemingly pointless amusement odd. Had she made a joke...? Did he find her words funny...?

He cirlced her now, firist moving around the apparation in wide circles, but stepping closer with each round, 'til she could feel his onxy fur eerily brushing her bleached white, could feel his breath drifting along her spine in an uneasy way. Upon his first round, she'd tried to follow him, turning her head as far as it would go in one direction then turning it the other way, wide pink eyes watching his dark blur closley. However, it became dizzying rather fast, so she resigned to just sitting down and staring ahead until he was done with his inspection.

Finally, his snake-like hiss-of-a-voice met her ears again, causing her to slowly turn her head in his direction. He inquired what she was to do with her kills, so now her nose slowly pointed down at the dead mice, unseeing eyes fixed on their blurry forms. Not too long ago, she'd met a woman that had secured a meal, but had no intention of eating it, allowing Nimue to feed upon it's flesh instead. Perhaps that was a common occurance in this corner of the mortal realm, hence why he asked, but the spectre was not that kind of wolf. She used the Sister's light to find meals only, not pointless murder, despite her unintetionally sadistic display earlier. Still, she was reminded of how hungry she'd been when discovering that other woman, and the warm wave of gratitiude Nimue had felt after being given the meal. Perhaps she could spare one mouse. Afterall, the Sister would surely help her again if she needed more. It wouldn't hurt.

"The Sister is hesitant in supplying generosity..." Nimue tipped her head back so as to look at Sister Moon, her pale red eyes reflecting the diety's light. "...but not unkind." Her gaze found Snake once more. "And I shall follow her example.

"Here, brother." A pink padded paw was lifted, the same one that had caught the third mouse, revealing it's bloody and broken body beneath. She then batted it over to the dark blur, giving a slow nod once the deed was done.

She recalled something odd he had said in place of eat. "Painting", was it? Her head tilted at him once more, unknowingly mimicking the unnatural angle he'd held his own at moments ago.

"What kind of mortal affair is 'painting'...?"

Neither the Sister or Mother had ever whispered such a word as "painting"; she assumed it must be something strickly mortal. Yet she desired to know more, always quick to drink in every trace of strangeness that so closely matched her own. The enthusiasm didn't show in her face, never would, but he had her full attention at least.
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