How painfully predictable her little kitty cat was. Some things never changed. Setting Tetradore free in the big wide world, was almost a cruel game, knowing very well where he would run. He had all this freewill and he chooses to do something so terribly anticipated that it was almost disappointing if it wasn't so entertaining. The man who seemed so strong and powerful was truly and utterly terrified, it was a delicious aroma that would only age well as realisation stewed within that mind of his.

It was almost cruel to allow him to believe, to be so certain that his shackles had been severed and his wings no longer clipped. Did he ever question that destroying her was almost too easy? Even after all those countless instances in which he had failed before and had once paid for it dearly.

But did he really think that she wouldn't keep tabs on him on Isolt? He had seemed so frantic, the smell of anxiety was potent within the air, what a appealing scent it was, an intoxicating cocktail she wanted to taste. She wanted nothing more than play with those debilitating emotions, fuel them in ways she could, drive them to new and terrible heights. She licked her lips, slowly at the thought as if she could vaguely taste it from the very scent he left behind, a wonderful trail of breadcrumbs for her to follow.

She slinks through the darkness that embraces her lithe form as if it worshipped her body and all her intoxicating curves. She is swift and soundless as a cat, slipping into the house had been easy enough. Catching just enough of their juicy little conversation, her ears should have been ringing. Didn't they know that by talking about nefarious creatures that it might summon them to their door?

"Oh no." Her voice billows out filling the room with her presence. "Who isn't dead? Perhaps you better lock your doors, just to be.. safe. Sounds absolutely terrifying, its giving me chills." She toys, that wicked gleam appearing within those multifaceted eyes, so cold and void of mortal sentiment and yet so entirely calculating. A smile like a cat that got the cream spreads across her ruby lips.

My, Isolt had grown, seeing her now, this close it became more apparent. She could feel that power the moment she passed the threshold of that house. "Isolt. How good it is to see you. You have grown into a woman." She purrs like the feline she embodies. There was so much unspoken and heavily poignant in that dreadful way that sucked the energy from the room from even the smallest of crevices. All that fine dark potential whirls about her like shadowy gossamer fingers.

Those sadistic piercing eyes land upon her ruby haired progeny, it was undeniable those ties she felt with the woman she had turned. Was it really such a surprise that she would keep tabs on what was hers? Well, perhaps it would be considering she had been believed swept away into the cold embrace of the true death. Despite how very different they were, were both hers in their own unique way. One was akin to a daughter and the other was something else entirely but bound just a close, after all, she had created him. She idly allows her finger to tail upon the countertop without a care in the world, her hypnotic eyes piercing the veil between the duo, drawing in those exotic and yet familiar mingling scents.

"Now don't let me ruin your conversation. Carry on, act as though I'm not even here.." She mused sadistically and yet her words hold a distinct nonchalance, yet each word uttered was as if she could taste each peak and sharpness of the letters upon her tongue. A small sensual smirk danced upon the devil woman's full lips, her expression was knowing and possessive. That piercing look she cast him from across that room spoke said so very much, but mainly one that practically screamed. I own you and according to her, she still did.

Risque

just face the moon and put your death mask on