One pointed ear flicks, swivels in the direction of where he can not just smell her, but sense her. All at once, things seem to slow down to a painful still, and the air becomes thicker, heavier, as the wood of the long bench where Lobo sit squeaks - a long, drawn out shrill - and he turns to stand up. Two red eyes lock in, and his nostrils flare as he breathes in deeply. Mmm...that scent. That oh-so-succulent smell that Lobo adores.
Fear.
And this fear has been aged to perfection. How ironic, that a lamb would stumble into the den of a wolf when he's not even hunting, but he has a job to do...and those who attempt to run, who hide, who try vehemently to avoid him...well. One way or another, Death will always cross their path.]
My, my...what pleasant company I find myself in tonight. Senorita, it's such a surprise to see you! Please, it's been so long, and you must be so tired. Have a seat.
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One pointed ear flicks, swivels in the direction of where he can not just smell her, but sense her. All at once, things seem to slow down to a painful still, and the air becomes thicker, heavier, as the wood of the long bench where Lobo sit squeaks - a long, drawn out shrill - and he turns to stand up. Two red eyes lock in, and his nostrils flare as he breathes in deeply. Mmm...that scent. That oh-so-succulent smell that Lobo adores.
Fear.
And this fear has been aged to perfection. How ironic, that a lamb would stumble into the den of a wolf when he's not even hunting, but he has a job to do...and those who attempt to run, who hide, who try vehemently to avoid him...well. One way or another, Death will always cross their path.]
My, my...what pleasant company I find myself in tonight. Senorita, it's such a surprise to see you! Please, it's been so long, and you must be so tired. Have a seat.
[That's not a request. :)]