Stavanger Bay Your cruelty, and your neglect?

He started off denying her.
Forgiving but not forgetting. Sounded like a narcissistic asshole -- who probably wasn't even real!
She would have snorted with amusement if she didn't respect him a little bit.

She let him finish his spiel. And she did have to admit, it interested her.
Vanity found herself sinking to her haunches, enthralled.
His words spoke of what she wanted for so long -- he spoke like someone of her calibre who could draw in wolves unlike she could. He could offer them more than she could, with better words than herself.
"I already have my plans, O'Malley."
She swept a look up and down his pale pelt.

"You're perfect to rule alongside me. If you wish."
She wanted to revive what the Nightwalkers were...but with O'Malley there would be changes, yes, but her core prospects would be there. Plunder and kill.
What better excuse than God? Perhaps O'Malley had some ideas for some fucking fun.
"We could take over this world together," she breathed.
"But I want to see what Ironclan comes to first..." The wolves here interested her, yes. But it didn't seem very...strong.
As much as Wintersbane wanted it to be, there wasn't much going on.