A Search for Company (Open - Males Preffered )

Akalia heard him before she saw him. As he approached, standing where he could not be seen. When he finally made himself known, a shiver of excitement passed through her, though to the unknowing eye it might've passed for a tremor of fear or a result of great pain. When he spoke, it was polite enough to spark a genuine interest within her. Before responding though, the onyx gal leaned back on her haunches and sat down, curling her tail forward and laying in her paws.And when she did speak, her voice was a mere whisper, soft and enchanting as it flowed daintily from her lips.

Lost? She paused, as if taking a moment for the meaning of the word to pass through layers of pained confusion. No. Yes. Her head tilted down, she began to weep silently, large eyes closed as her shoulders shook from the force of her tears. I'm alone. There's no one else left. They're all dead. That was true, her parents and siblings were dead, and her long-ago pack might as well have been. He didn't need to know it was she who had taken them into the forever-sleep. No, not yet.

For a second, she tried to see herself as he did in that moment, and a cynical laugh threatened to bubble up within her. Her act was probably very convincing, especially since all the emotion she emitted was a reflection of the ones she hadn't been able to let go as a young little-one. That thought made her want to lash out, as it slipped through the barriers of the past and reminded her of what she'd lost. It was futile to ponder anything of the past, that was a belief that had served her well and she would not abandon it now. She had a goal after all, it would not to well to make a mistake at the moment, and break up the image she was presenting the rather handsome male before her.

Her shade was somewhat aware of this as it went on within Akalia, and the essence responded to it without urging from its physical self. Taking its matters into its own paws, it allowed itself to become no more than a flickering haze of smoke, nearly invisible to the eyes and rubbed its own head against the neck of the male, dashing over his shoulders with no more than the touch of a feather to curl under his muzzle and rub against his neck. Her whispering touch was no more than an invisible force, one that would most likely present itself to the male as an urge to comfort the female physically. Of course, the shade had no way of knowing for surge, but it was a cunningly devious thing and at the moment, its goal was to procure a decent result to her masters plans.