She doesn’t find them especially interesting, but she finds that she likes watching them anyway. 
She likes the way they convince themselves their mundane lives are not, in fact, mundane. That their politics and quarrels matter, that their love will last or that anyone will even remember their name once they are rotted in the soil. But there is little else to hold her attention, and so here she lingers at the river’s edge in the shadow of the trees, pulling a cloak of it around herself to hide the glowing silver of her eyes.

From here she sees the encroaching red glow that soon reveals itself to be a mare. Curiosity snags like a hook, and her eyes narrow in on their new target, her pulse quickening just slightly. She likes the transparency of her skin — likes that she can see the puzzle of her bones and the way they fit together, and marvels at what it might be like to watch them break. Severe is not typically one to relish in physical pain, but, she also has never been presented with someone that looks quite like this.

“Hello,” comes the soft, nearly serpentine-like sound of her voice, the single word somehow coiled and slippery. She sheds the shadow like a snake sheds its skin, her eyes shining and bright in the dark, and she fixes her best impression of an easy smile to her face as she steps forward. It is difficult to appear friendly, she has found, when there is nothing at all soft about her — not her twisted horns or her scaled skin, her unsettling eyes or the sharp point of her tail. Perhaps the mare will not notice any of that though. “I take it you don’t like ice?” she asks her in an attempt at light-heartedness, gesturing to the slick, frozen surface of the river, that smile still unflinching.

She despised small talk, and despite having asked the mare a question she is hardly listening to the answer. She is still staring at her translucent skin, her mouth aching in that strange way when her teeth get the need to sink into something. “I dislike the cold, too,” she answers, half-heartedly pretending to play this role she had signed herself up for. She did prefer a warmer climate, that much is true, but she didn’t feel particularly strongly about the cold, either. Lying came easily enough for her, though, and she would lie her way through this interaction until she decided exactly where she wanted it to go.

The intrusion of the stranger is so surprising at first that it almost catches her off guard.
Fortunately, she had been born this way, and her reflexes are faster than her mind, and in half a heartbeat every entry is slammed closed in the other mare’s face.

But Severe does not take kindly to anyone trying to take the upper hand, and locking her out is not enough.

Turning her sharp eyes to the intruder, she deftly takes a hold of her. “You’re going to need to at least ask for my name before you try to just dive into me like that,” comes that sultry hiss again, a serpent’s smile on her dark lips. It is not a full possession, but even with Severe only using part of her strength it is still relatively easy to overpower this girl that so clearly did not actually know how to use this type of magic yet. Not against someone like her, who had been born wielding more power than most could dream of. She freezes her to one spot, locking her jaw as well, making it incredibly clear that she is the one in control now.

In the stillness she listens for the other’s heartbeat, curious if she will panic at all. Sometimes they don’t; some are too stubborn to show their fear, and occasionally even too stupid to recognize that she is going to kill them. Admittedly, those were not her favorite, but she did like to think it counted as doing the gene pool a favor by getting rid of them.

There is a tilt to her head as she contemplates what she wants to do — the possibilities are actually endless, and she so hates having to make decisions.  Luckily for this stranger, her own curiosity gets the better of her, and instead of doing anything she asks, “I’m dying to know what your plan was.” She loosens her hold on her tongue, but nothing else, keeping her frozen as she walks in a slow half-circle around her, silver eyes glittering with something like mirth.

Rather unceremoniously, Severe drops her hold on the mare entirely.

She has never really been one to make them beg unless she was actually planning on killing them, and in this case should the stranger try to possess her again she would not waste her time with pointless games anyway. A younger version of herself would have drug it out, would have flexed all her powers and offered the stranger a taste of all the ways she could die—fire, disintegration, or perhaps asphyxiated by darkness. But she has become more methodical in her ways, choosing instead to be quick and efficient so that she could move on with her day.

Or perhaps that was simply a side effect of a deeper boredom, that she was losing joy in the things that had once amused her.

“A word of advice, never underestimate your targets.” Severe was arrogant, but not stupid. She knew the way magic ran rampant in this place, rooted into the earth and growing inside the most unlikely of individuals. She also knew, though she was reluctant to admit it, that there were some stronger than her, and that it was not always immediately obvious. Even now, after having regained control of this situation with relative ease, she keeps her silver eyes trained on her companion, though the idle flick of her pointed tail suggests a relaxed stance.

With a subtle tilt of her head, she once again finds herself staring at the strange translucence of the other’s skin. “You’re interesting,” she tells her quite plainly, though it’s difficult to discern if she means the other’s appearance or just her in general. “Do you have a name?”