Haunted Wood the tracks I tread are cold

she is not long uninterrupted; there comes the warlord, prowling mass of muscle and strength. she can not deny the want, but she can control it. "I do not," she answers, simply, gaze moving over him languidly. 

"you strike me as a leader that takes what they want. such I leader I am willing to follow." she continues, stepping lightly forward once more, gait deceptively easy, casual.