Silverlight Terrace i won't fight the fire, i feel the rain fall down

His call out caused her chin to lift from where she had placed it, and it was the last of it that seemed to soothe her enough to respond, dignified as ever, You would enjoy that, wouldn't you, she hummed with the slow sway of her tail. Holding her head highly now, she moved to his side, her own smile broadening. She saw that he did, very much so, enjoy the idea of it. Oh, it had been true, she had felt its presence, fleeting though it had been; she did not confirm his words, though neither had she denied them outright. What should I feel such a way for? I could never envy your ambition, a trait she, too, harbored, and therefore respected... appreciated. No, it was not this thought that caused the insidious feeling to leap in her throat moments ago. But she had forgotten such a feeling; Hydra had no need to be such a way. 

There could be no other woman that would ever amount to her.  And it was not because she felt he was, somehow, beholden to her, but because of her vanity. Try though anyone else might, they would ever be cast in the towering shadow her lithe form provided. Tell me more about this torch you carry for me, she said then, though she had heard well and good how the words had been said. But she had enjoyed them, very much—that much was evident. 

His words caused her eyes to seek his own. Popular belief? As his fang raked over her spine, she wondered at this other foreign feeling he seemed to provoke within her—she was too inexperienced to know it by name, or how to respond. He was far more fluent in this language than she. Hydra leaned her own curved hip against his cheek as he drew near to it, turning on her heel swiftly to stand shoulder to shoulder with him. One way to dispel popular belief is to eradicate even the possibility of such a thought, she offered him with an impish smile. Is that your way to announce you have decided to court me? That you would like to keep me? she asked, prompting, moving to trace his jawline, pausing at the juncture where his jaw met his throat. 

Hydra withdrew, slowly, taking some odd steps away. To keep me, I must be caught; to catch me, you must win my affections. I do so love moose femur. Oh! And the antlers of a white-tailed buck. I have no enemies, now, but I would adore hearing that if you wish to have and to hold me, if ever I should, you would fight by my side until my battle is finished—as I would, for you, she tilted her head, wondering what he might say or do now; he had an answer for everything, and she so looked forward to hearing the answer to this.