i used to rule the world

seas would rise when i gave the word

It wouldn't have been entirely accurate to say that Alexander had forgotten entirely of the demure female that had taken refuge in his apartment what was nearly month's prior. He had considered her frequently at first. He had felt the twang of excitement that, perhaps, she might return on the next day or the next week - whenever it suited her. But days had turned into weeks and weeks had turned into months and life continued on as it so often did for Alexander. Unfortunately, when there was such an infinitely long life ahead of him, it was far too easy to dwell on the things that could have been but weren't. She was no exception. Never the less, life went on in the same monotonous state that it always did. The cafe had remained busy, even though Alexander had struggled to fill his empty barista position before he took a short sabbatical back to his homeland - back to Macedonia. The hunter had been gone only a few weeks at best and now he found it almost difficult to reintegrate with the life he'd built himself within the metropolis. Macedonia had left him missing the world of yore, the world that he had become so comfortable with. He missed the merchants calling from their store fronts, he missed the people walking in the streets and the smell of horses. He missed the rawness of the world he had once treasured compared to this life of fossil fuels and technology.

He blamed the difference in time zones for his particularly early morning rise. The sun had only hardly peeked over the horizon when he awoke. He'd showered and dressed in the same fashion he would every morning but it was still too early to open the cafe - the city was only just barely beginning to stir to life and Alexander was entirely restless. It was perhaps this one thing - this disquietude that was so very uncharacteristic of him that drew him out and onto the streets this early morning. The man wandered with no blatant regard, drifting with the early morning zephyr as it rolled through the city, bringing with it the fresh scent of spring. It was only when the storefronts of the city began to open and Alexander began to contemplate returning to his own surely bubbling business that he spotted her. He couldn't forget her figure, even as she was faced away from him. Though the conqueror had done his best to be nothing more then courteous of her, even the man within him could not have helped from appraising her slender figure - the way her hips were curved, the fashion at which her long hair fell down her back in a cascade of visibly soft locks. He paused where he was on the street, the Dark Hunter's lips pressing together a momentary glimpse of indecision. It would be so easy to simply let the girl pass by, to let himself slip out of her life. He tried to reason with himself that it would be better for her that way. After all, every supernatural thing he had ever attempted to befriend had somehow died in a fashion that was hardly gentle - half of so by his own unfortunate hand.

Never the less, despite this knowledge, it was an entirely different realization that made Alexander step out into the street. There was something about her that was different then the last time that they had met. Surely she seemed nearly just as timid as perhaps the first time when she had been cowering in his coffee booth - but there was something else too, a certain sort of despondency that hadn't been there before. His approach was as quiet as one required of his species. He was, after all, a hunter by instincts and she had, in some fashion or another, become his prey. He paused behind her, his lips parting momentarily only to pause. He had never asked her of her name and likewise he was fairly certain he had never given his either....alone that alone was surprising. So very few had even an inkling of who he was. Never the less, his lips parted once again, his baritone voice reaching out to her ever so softly, "Good Morning, little Ï"εÏ"ράποδο." The greek word for her species came easily enough to him, accented perhaps by his anciently natural accent. There was a brief glimpse of some soft simper on his lips, a rather subtle hint that perhaps he was happy to see her.