The mischievous witch particularly enjoyed teasing the often cantankerous Dark Hunter. Azrael was often the epitome of the very horror that haunted the nightmares of the supernatural races. He was righteousness and justice embodied whilst also being entirely hers. It was childish, surely, the satisfaction she so gained from wrapping him around her finger with those tantalizing notions of that pleasure she was capable of providing him. That very sound that so reverberated from the back of his throat prompted a smug simper upon her own lips, impish though it still was. She turned, fully intending to lead the man away from those outfits only for Azrael's hand to abruptly reach out for her, catching her wrist. She hardly fought him as he tugged her backwards and into the warm embrace of his chest. Her storm colored eyes glanced upwards at him, her cheek brushed against his as the Hunter's lips brushed against her ear. That warning was perhaps as tempting as she so strove to be. God, how he was capable of prompting those desires within her, prompting a sort of warmth in the depths of the young woman.

Despite this, Serafina was hardly done with that very festival. Rather, the young woman ventured towards a particular booth, that cloudy crystal ball entirely seized her attention. Coaxing her significant other to touch that sphere, however, took far more effort. She was quick assure the man of that artifact's abilities, even if he retained that glimpse of dubiousness upon his features. She was well aware of that nearly pained look upon his features as his palm finally reached out for that sphere, the girl entirely unable to help that roll of her eyes as her slender fingers reached forward to work that very magic. Her blue-grey eyes focused upon that ball before her as those images began to dance before her with images of an outfit she had only teasingly suggested and intimate acts she was all too willing to do. She could hardly help that grin that settled on her lips as she stepped away from it, her lips brushed sweetly against his cheek as she commented of what their evening would surely consist of. Such an outfit, after all, could certainly be obtained easily enough. That idle comment Azrael provided of his thoughts on that magical artifact prompted laughter from the woman and yet, for the time being, she had every intent on seeing more of that festival before she succumbed to those more carnal desires that tugged at them both.

The young woman wandered through those stalls of that festival, eyeing those trinkets and clothing. She looked on those herbs with only vague interest, the majority of them were things she was more then able to procure herself, her own stocks relatively full as it was. She was hardly attentive as Azrael paused next to a stall filled with various powders as she eyed the tall candles that lined the table across the way. She neither noticed that rather bold young witch, at least, until the breeze so took up that powder, tossing it towards the man beside her. That sneezing fit near immediately grabbed the young woman's attention, that glimpse of concern upon her features was altogether apparent as her stormy gaze wheeled near immediately upon the witch beside him. It took her a moment, to gather some sort of conclusion as to what had occurred, her lips pressing together ever so slightly. "Azrael, you're fine." She insisted with an almost exasperated sigh, even though she failed to join her fellow witch in that laughter. "It's Lapis Lazuli powder. It's a rock." She clarified, leaving out those spiritual purposes for such a common stone. After all, she was rather certain Azrael didn't actually care of what it's intent was - except for the assurance that he most definitely was not going to die. "You'll be fineee, it just went up your nose." She insisted almost flippantly and yet, before the young woman could even glance at those finer, rarer minerals that witch had, she was dragged away but a clearly disgruntled hunter.

For a moment, Serafina considered insisting on how utterly ridiculous the man was being and yet...she supposed he had made the effort to bring her here, much less to even allow her to linger when the sheer level of magic was near notable even to her. Perhaps, this time, he could be forgiven for his irritability. She briefly considered how that magic must feel to him. Was it an assault on his senses? An itch he was denying scratching? Or did it have a flavor on the back of his tongue like his very being did to her? It was that small gesture of his hand that drew her gaze upwards and her thoughts away from that internal contemplation. Though cauldrons themselves hardly interested her, already owning two as it were, those near peculiar ingredients certainly seemed to have an effect upon them both. She knew near immediately the sort of spells that required such jarred parts of animals. The mutilation of those creatures quite near apart of the rituals themselves. She could feel the magic here, the way it near vibrating within her own soul, tugging at the girl in such a way that made her pause in her steps to regard it with clear suspicion.

The soft utterance of Azrael's voice caused her gaze to turn towards him. Her head slowly bobbed in silent confirmation that those very items were exactly what was labeled on the jars. Serafina's gaze slowly shifted back towards that mysterious woman, hardly unaware of the way the rest of her kind so reacted to that very feeling that so seemed to affect the pair. "It is her." She uttered softly, her eyebrows furrowed in consideration. It was, perhaps, the stupidest decision the young woman had made in quite sometime and yet, with Azrael at her side, she felt rather...safe in engaging in such risky actions. "She is...powerful, but she uses death magic...come on, let's see what she has to sell." Her eyebrows rose, in an almost playful fashion as the young woman dragged him forward. She could hardly deny she was curious of those wares, even if she hardly intended to purchase any such ingredients or any cauldrons the woman had to offer. That wasn't to say she was unwilling to purchase something from the store, should it catch her attention. As it was, however, Serafina found herself more inquisitive of the woman herself. Was she as vile as her magic was? Or was she merely one of those misunderstood outcasts like the young witch herself.

A warm smile brushed across the young woman's features as she neared that tent. "Good afternoon!" She utterly brightly to the fellow witch, her own tone of voice was far friendlier than the woman often presented the world with, a clear facade, of sorts and yet, she hardly bothered to engage the woman much more, rather, her attention brushed with clear curiosity over those mysterious ingredients and nick knacks in that booth. The tightness of her grip upon Azrael's hand was, perhaps, the only indication of any sense of nervousness Serafina might have felt even despite her own insistence they paused here, of all places.

serafina dubois