She isn't afraid of the storm, for she rides it. A powerful wave of perdition and death.

Nestles in a bed of leaves.

Give her someone to snack on.

She is immune to any disease he might carry. Come along, Witcher. Taste the dark side.

"Come here", she purred while forefinger gestures for him to step closer. Dark eyes scanning the males stature intently.

She can smell a hunter. Hmm.

"Granting myself a snack." With the most innocent expression manageable, the slender female took a step closer to the male now towering over her.

"Witchers have the tendency to taste quite unique." A low hum rumbled through her chest while she took another step forward to close the space again. She couldn't help as the tip of her tongue trailed over her plump bottom tier in anticipation.

She feels quite affectionate tonight, thus she snuck into @PithyMassacre's rented motel room - nestling on his bed with a content sigh. Whether she was welcome or not was written in the stars.

"I have tasted a few. Liked them all. And you seem to be quite the snack." She wasn't going to kill him, that's for sure. All she wanted was a taste of the great White Wolf many talked about. He seemed to be famous around here.

"It means invading your mind, robbing your energy." With her lips twitching into a dreamy grin, the female dipped her head aside while eyeing the male. "It can be the most pleasant experience."

The grimace told a story he could never tell and yet, she was undeterred. Curious, to be exact. "Don't worry, you should sit down and relax", she mused in a gentle tone while fingertips brushed over his forearm ever so lightly.

Smells like havoc.

Tired demon noises.

She growls. A day she can't seem to find rest.

She can sense a tasty soul around.

A yawn parted the female's plump lips, dark eyes soon opening to gaze around. She is not ready to get up.

She's feeling that certain pressure inside... perhaps a snack is needed.

She's constantly lurking in the shadows. Observing, waiting...