Hoshor Plains You once watched me fall. Now watch me rise.

Oh how great the sensation was to feel another be so obedient when addressed. The taste of power was sweet. It was a taste that could not be mistaken, nor denied, nor forgotten. Yes, it was sweet... but, perhaps not as much so when the thirst for blood and stench of death were quenched. Such was far more appealing.

Virion regarded the follower; the ally; the friend, so carefully. Each word rung through the audit like a softly sung ballad. It was then after that the term "sir" strung just the right chord, sending a thrill straight down the spine. Months, it had been, since any used such a phrase. It had been missed, dearly.

"She would be foolish to resist; what right does she have to do so?" 

Scornful eyes turned upon the speaker, lip curling to reveal the perfect line of crimson stained daggers. It is not she I worry for! What fool do you take me for; to think I should be concerned for the likes of that pathetic zhenshchina? Foam bubbled upon the lips, clear saliva spewing across the distance left between both men. The thrill once being bathed within had now left the air dry. Fury encompassed every aspect of the man. Even an ally would be shown no kindness, especially when present with such an accusation. This could not be let to pass.