darling, you're wild-eyed, empty, and tongue-tied
maybe you need me or maybe you don't
Sochi remains auxiliary to the conversation, but she doesn’t mind. She has never minded being slightly on the outside. For all of her more negative, selfish traits, a desire to be the center of attention has never been one of them. She is content to observe, content to watch and study, her silvery eyes neutral as they switch back and forth between the dragon-stallion and the younger boy, her tail flicking at her haunches lightly.
At the boy’s exclamation, a corner of her lip quirks, a barest hint of a smile that shadows her mouth. There is a secret thrill within her to hear it said aloud—to have her suspicions confirmed. There is a thrill to know that the baroque stallion at her side, the one with fire in his eyes and blood on his lips, has a dragon curled within him. He is more powerful than had ever imagined he would be, and the predator within her sings at the recognition of such a worthy one within him. To know the blood that now runs through her daughter’s veins, the fire that consumes her making so much more sense now.
Still, none of this shows on her impassive face, and she continues to listen quietly, only perking up slightly when Castile mentions their daughter. There remains a hint of something nearly lethargic in the way she moves—a confident, lazy grace—as she rolls a scarred shoulder, the crimson of the tattoo across her chest rippling with the motion. “Reia would love more,” she pauses for a second, considering, “friends.” The word feels strange, and she isn’t sure how accurate it is—her daughter, after all, has never been one to long for companionship—but still, she is sure she’d appreciate the sentiment all the same.
Then, with the same fluid movements, she takes a step back, dipping her head slightly.
“And with that, I think I will take my leave.” She turns to the boy, “Pteron,” and then to the Dragon-King, “Castile.” She pauses, murmuring quietly under her breath, “Find me when you are done.” With a shake, she shifts into her tigress form, giving them a feline smile before turning and leaping into the shadows.
playing the slow rooms, howling at half moons
if you are a Queen then, honey, I am a wolf