She was restless. She wasn’t used to being rooted to one spot, and yet, here she was, essentially having trapped herself in a kingdom. Completely of her own doing, of course, but that didn’t make it any less suffocating. Occasionally, she still left, but not the way she used to. It was a little sad, really, that just a few threads of power had been enough to pin her down, when not even all the weight of Ophanim’s love had ever managed such a thing. She has spent her entire young life running from him and everything that he made her feel, for no discernible reason. And yet here she was, somehow having managed to find it within herself to smother that wayward part of her soul, just in order to make sure Vulgaris and Loess were under her ever watchful eye.

On top of her usual knoll is where she stood, still shrouded in the darkness of early morning; early enough that the light had not yet touched them. There was a faint celestial glow that emanated from her, from the gathering of constellations that clung to her steel gray skin, and in a way, they were almost brighter than the stars suspended above. Stars that were close enough to touch, though they likely didn’t burn — much to her dismay.

As the sky began to lighten, that is when her eyes settle on an unfamiliar stallion. Suspicion festered inside of her like some disease, and when she makes her way over to him, the purpose in her stride could not be denied. The change in her since arriving here was almost eerie. Before, when she had approached anyone in one of the common lands, it had been with that almost feline sashay of her hip, a coquettish simper always curled on her lips, and the glimmering hope that the interaction would at least provide some sort of entertainment. But here, anyone that enters Loess is immediately met with her almost accusatory stare, and already she is peeling away at the inside of his mind as soon as she is close enough.

”Who are you?” The sound of her voice was still honey-sweet, but the edges of the words were sharp. She has come to a stop a few strides before him, her youthful head tipped upwards so that her dark blue eyes may hold his own cool gaze. ”And what is your business in Loess?”

It is her default state, to be unimpressed. It didn’t matter who stood before her, what their accolades may be, she wanted to draw her own conclusions. What she found notable was typically different than what others looked for; she had her own private agenda, and there was no telling what she may see in someone that caused her to deem them fit for whatever her mind was dreaming up.

She can see the way his eyes travel briefly across her face, her body, and despite her somewhat still critical stare, there is a flicker of satisfaction that spreads like heat across her skin. With the glowing constellations nestled against the storm-cloud gray of her skin, accentuating the curves that she was still growing into but most certainly already existed, she was always pleased when someone noticed, however briefly, her physical attributes.

But her aim was to be pretty and smart.

His answer to her question seems to chip away at the icy facade she had created, and a smile breaks across her face as a note of laughter sings from her lips. ”How fortunate for you, then, Whitter, that I found you so quickly,” The sharpness of her voice has melted back into that signature purr as she slips closer, pushing his boundaries but still not entirely breaching them. ”It would have been a shame to keep waiting.”

He doesn’t ask for her name, but she supplies it anyway, her cobalt eyes sweeping across his face and the sharp angle of his shoulders and the broadness of his back. ”I’m Starsin. And I live here. I like to see to it that no handsome gentlemen are left unattended for too long.” She has always been a shameless flirt, and it shows in the ease which the line is delivered, accompanied by a sultry smile. This was the role she was most comfortable in, and wouldn’t matter how he reacted. She didn’t need for him to take the bait in order to enjoy the game. ”You can stay, if you want.”

He is dangerous, but not obviously so. He is the monster that lurks beneath the surface of a calm sea, an inconspicuous veil hiding something far darker. It is a thrilling thing, to be this close to someone that wanted to undo her. She only catches some of his thoughts – most of them are too embedded into his subconscious, beyond what she can grasp onto – as she is too distracted by what he outwardly portrays, but she hears enough. She has met many that were irritated by her; several that she had thoughts of annoyance and mild violence flash across their minds as they withstood her relentless games. She was not experienced enough to truly incite fear into anyone; typically, she just entertained herself by seeing how far she could push someone. Vulgaris had been her first endeavor with seeing what she could really do. It was easy, when he had no memories to go off of.

She still wasn’t seasoned enough to try that with just anyone, but she had always loved a challenge, she found herself thinking as she watched him with a careful regard.

They could explode, the two of them. Spontaneously combust just from merely existing in each other’s presence, as they both clawed for control of their desires and urges. She can feel him spiraling, his thoughts racing almost faster than she can keep up, but there is enough to quicken her pulse in delight. “A walk would be lovely,” And the words are so soft they are almost sweet, tipping her pretty head to smile up at him. She glides past him, and for a moment her skin brushes so lightly against his body it could have almost been taken for an accident, if it had not been for the way she tilts her gaze backwards to him with a knowing lift of her lips, beckoning him to follow.

She waits for him to draw alongside of her, not really paying attention to where they walk. She is too focused on him, on the tension that bounces like electricity between them, on the scattered thoughts and words that she picks from his mind. “Do I unsettle you, Whitter?” Her voice is a murmur, hushed, as though she was worried someone was listening. “You unsettle me,” Her cobalt-blue eyes glance sideways at him, glinting impishly from behind a frame of almost-black forelock. “Just a little bit, though.”

He is coming undone, and she doesn’t have to reach into his mind to know it. She can feel it in the hum of his body as it steps alongside hers, can almost taste the way it pulsates through his veins. Even with her gift, she had had no idea what she was walking into, but she isn’t entirely sure if it would have mattered. Would she have turned away if she had known what sinister thoughts the currents of his mind would bring her? It was doubtful. Foolishness was bred into her. She was designed to break things, and to be broken — a terrible combination of something destructive and something fragile.

She was made for this and she didn’t even realize it.

She cannot explain the flicker of heat that flashes across her skin at the way he says unravel; something akin to a white-hot desire, and a keen satisfaction in knowing she was getting somewhere. Under his skin. Into his mind. Nestled there like a barb that would only dig deeper should he struggle. “I’m always doing things I shouldn’t be doing. It’s kind of my thing.” If he only knew the half of it.  

She is mindful of the space she keeps between as they walk; hardly a few inches, and nearly every other step her glowing side brushes against his. But her attention is carefully diverted elsewhere, refusing to give him the satisfaction that she notices every time their skin meets. An acquired flavor, he says, and it incites another laugh from between her sterling lips. “I guess we will see about that.”

She can feel his breath as it plays across her skin when he reaches closer, and she moves to sidestep away, but not before his teeth make contact with her delicate skin. There is alarm, though it is brief and fleeting across her face. So far, none had been so bold as to reach out and touch her in such a way, even though she often invited it. It causes her forward motion to suddenly cease, as she spins abruptly to face him. Whatever imaginary boundary she had set between them dissolves, her chest nearly touching his as she reaches to her let her lips hover just above his skin. “Let me ask you this, Whitter,” Her voice is low, the words nearly lost in the threads of his tangled mane, as she angles her head upwards to let her mouth rest near his ear, “Do you want to unravel?” She would love nothing more than to see how far he spiraled.