Moonspear oh, this empty thing i've done

He was a blooming flower to her light, but her lack of warmth meant she could hardly be compared to the sun. As he lay and looked at her, she saw the splintered hue of his gaze and was silent, even as he ushered forth his desolate and disappointed word. She exhaled a heavy breath as she looked to him, now stepping nearer to him and reclining gracefully to her hindquarters. 

His eyes were not quite so bright as Korei's. There was a shade in them that lent Hydra hope that he would not become her; she deigned to ignore the sobs that had wracked his form moments ago. 

She nosed him. You are mine, Arcturus, she decided, possessive, despite the color that had bled and broken his favored hue. It was that he favored it that mattered. She pressed her foreleg alongside his own, ears flicking forward. Blue does not matter. What matters is your strength, she explained. It is not my blue eyes that kill my enemies, though it made them quiver, it is these, she said, revealing to him her fangs. She put them away after a moment and demanded next: let me see yours.