Solaced one, steps back . . . amusement hidden within liquid amber, was he to intervene in such a performance as this? To miss out on amusement that had long ago, left him?

"I play at nothing and I dare say she does not either. . . does the unknown scare you stalker of the night? Perhaps you will find she seeks what you claim as yourself . . . "

Voice of black magic drawled, beauty wisping through it's depths and perhaps, a trace of bemusement. He merely retreated, pausing upon a crested mound to await either's actions. Tresses slipped 'cross haunches of silver, ghostly form suddenly tense . . . aware of something else. Orbs slipping from obsidian femme of arrogance, as if unwilling to pull himself from sleek form, a disgruntled snort elipsed from flared nostrils.

In unbalanced realms shall I seek my claim
But I shall partake in the vagrant's life
To roam silently