Blackbeak Bluff arachnophobia has left the chat

his scent is pronounced and sudden, and ironclad exprression twitches as her muzzle pulls into something resembling a smile. she does not shift immidiately, watching the corpse a moment longer until he addresses her. when she moves, it is easy and lithe, twisting and moving to meet him. he observes her in the manner of a predator, and she him; and so it appears he failed to die in their time apart, after all. she merely allows a small, contemplative hum to escape her lips, wondering whether to dance with words or cut simply to the immidiate thought on her mind. she did not believe that their previous encounter would be their last, the universe seemed to find great enjoyment and throwing them together time and time again. "hello, my dear." the words lacked warmth entirely, and she regarded him cooly as her gaze asked a silent question. did he want to kill her, or fuck her? she remembered the act, the unimpressiveness of that first time, the burn when she'd lain her fangs against his throat soon after.