you could rattle the stars.
you could do anything,
if only you dared

It hardly took Vhalla long to deduce that Donovan was indeed a were, that internal... whatever it was, labeling him as something other than a human. Though, she wasn't nearly as skilled as other races as identifying other races, she had come to realize that were-creatures tended to be the easiest for her. Why? She hadn't an idea but the woman didn't mind having a bit of an advantage there. She's quiet for a moment as Lazarus makes his appearance, her eyes immediately darting to him and she can't help the way her gaze travels briefly across his defined chest, her breathing hitching ever so slightly as those memories come unbidden to the forefront of her mind. It takes a moment before she can push them away and bring her gaze to meet those green eyes. Vhalla doesn't miss that flash of... arrogance within those depths which only has Vhalla shoving those thoughts down harder, tying them down so she wouldn't do anything brash. Instead, she scowls at him briefly before she answers his question only for him to reply with that sarcasm that so fell from his tongue on a regular basis.

The assassin merely shrugs at him, her face impassive for the time being, "Your point being?" She drawls lazily. It was in the woman's nature to simply barge in on friend's houses or even rooms, it wasn't the first time she had done it and it wasn't the last. There was no sense of privacy when it came to the assassin, though, it had put her in some awkward situations before, you would think she would have learned her lesson. Watching the way he moves across the kitchen, her eyes fall on those marks she had made on him and it takes all her willpower to not flush at the sight of it. Though, she can't say the same for her body, the heat already building within her as she remembers that night, vivid in her mind's eye. Vhalla watches the man pick that bottle up, uncork the lid and take a swig, her icy eyes instantly going to the sloshing of that liquid, her mouth almost feeling dry. She's tempted to demand for a drink but Lazarus beats her to the punch.

Taking a single step forward, she's nearly about to nod her head in agreement until her eyes drop to that defined chest of his only to see a hickey. The woman had been entirely drunk that night but she had been very aware of what she had been doing that night and she was absolutely certain that, that mark hadn't come from her. She feels that rage boil in her stomach, very close to activating her fire affinity as her eyes turn cold instantly. Shooting him a death glare, she turns away from him, feeling the way his eyes linger on her backside. She might have been pleased he was checking her out and yet, she was far too angry to feel anything but that. It was a ridiculous anger, that feeling of possessiveness so far out of the ordinary. She had never once felt... jealous. Did the woman feel like anything would have changed after that night? Perhaps, perhaps not. Yet, that envy burns in the deep of her stomach, that hate she had felt for the man behind her boiling from the depths of her. He wasn't hers and he never would be, the woman would never have the ability to settle down.

Folding her arms over her chest, she pops her hip out and simply ignores Lazarus, she would get Ellie and leave. Clearly, the man would continue to find the sheets of his drunken escapades. She wouldn't allow it to bother her. Focusing on Donovan once again, she watches the way he sips his coffee, the were holding an arrogance about him that wasn't unlike the assassin, though when he answers her question, Vhalla merely blinks at him. What an intriguing man. She hardly has a moment to get her words in when Lazarus calls over her shoulder to the man sitting on the couch, her entire body stiffening at the sound of his voice. She could almost see red at the corner of her vision, just the mere sound of him wanted her to whirl on him and punch him. "What... exactly are you hunting?" She very nearly spits out, her voice holding a touch of that anger that so dances through her blood.

Vhalla Solarn

To the stars who listen- and the dreams that are answered