and all the giants fell
*
There is a coldness to her focus as she watches him. For a moment she's all predator and he's nothing more than a sly fox. All the shadows and cleverness cannot save him, not now with her so closer.
The longer he talks the more she thinks he is something wrong, something that should not be. Lysander reminds her of those gods back in Novus, with their apathy and crooked smiles that say more than their words. Only the adoration of Flora saves him now as she watches him lower to that wicked, deadly flower. Perhaps her curiosity too save him.
Calliope is curious as to what end he plucks death from the forest floor, what gravestone he plans to bless. If it's the wrong one there will be no gentle touch of her horn to the tines of her antlers. The only way her horn will point then is straight at his heart.
His would not be the first heart to feel the end of her horn and Calliope doesn't know that she'd want to save his.
“Careful.” The words are a blaze of warning and her smile turns to some leonine sneer of tooth and rage. There is a thunder of a roar behind those teeth of hers as she turns to watch him go. His plant is too sly to be called justice, too underhanded.
As he fades into the forest she only watches, horn pointed low with a promise he'll never get to see. Not yet, not until he too shows himself to be nothing more than a man made to sin .
One day, perhaps, she'll tear him apart just to see what devils he holds inside that vessel of his flesh.
Distantly she follows, far enough away for the forest to devour the sounds of her hunt with birdsong.
@Lysander
<3 this was fun.
