The Wispmother beckons (Sub-territory discovery)

"As you wish, Meldresi. "

Slade had almost lost his control, and called the ethereal fae another term of endearment. How quaint. The ominous Slade, the silent but deadly, the murderer, so quick to fall for another. Foolish. He would amend his sins at a later date. The sin of desire. Such a remote feeling, one that devastated his position as a King. A sin he had succumbed to, and lost against. No, no, that sin was trust.
A sin he would never commit, again. Or, so he thought.

As if he had been at her left flank since the dawn of his birth, he took the position there, the guard against any and all who dared. Dared to try. Dared to die. Whichever suited the failures most, only would lead to the Dark Sire sipping their blood as an after sunfall drink.

Simmering gaze glided to and fro from the sights before the duo, and while the Nightmare kept his main focus on the Ebonia, his interest passed from sight to sight in the wretched place. A solemn and reclusive place. As everyother part of the grounds were filled with death, this place held at bay the secretions of its killings, the gurglings of murky waters or the gulpings of frogs, thescuttle of a bush, to the sound of a short-lived prey's last cry befpre it is downed by some mysterious organism too hidden in the impenetrable shadows.