Erik would feel amusement if he felt anything at her twirling around on her heel like she had been lost in thought. It was very mildly amusing. Had she been lost in thought?  He looked at the soft chocolate hair as it framed her face. It made her look beautiful but with how lifeless he felt it wasn't that affective to bring a reaction. Don't get it wrong...he noticed the beauty. It just didn't mean anything as he didn't even know who she was. Let alone why she was here looking for someone. He blinked a bit as she appeared quite lost and uncertain. He wasn't going to bite her. He might be a wolf but he didn't go after human lambs. He was a wolf in human clothing.<br/><br/>He watched her carefully. Not staring but just studying. He looked her over. Wondering what she was thinking about. He watched her with her hair. He still didn't move. Her struggling with the words brought a hint of confusion that quickly faded. What was all those broken sentences supposed to mean. "Who are you?" He asked lifelessly. Wondering why she waited around just to stumble out compliments that he wasn't sure he believed. "I write it in my head to express meaning to my life." He said in a poetic way. Still no life in those words. His lifeless eyes looked hollow. Their caramel brown hues empty, hollow, and distant. No spark of livelihood shined in those eyes.<br/><br/>He took his gaze from her. "You live far from here?" He asked. Looking back to her. "You know a bit of sorrow...you can feel a bit of my pain...interesting." He said. The hollow words filled with a faint faint flickering of hope. Perhaps...perhaps she would see past this icy exterior. He looked up at the ceiling. "I have more...I write many. Many poems to express things this icy exterior does not allow to be relayed. This exterior of ice that no one takes the time to look past. Frost upon frost. Hollow upon hollow. Solitude and silence bears no mercy to the iron fist of pain and sorrow." He said in a poetic way. Telling her part of a poem he wrong. The frost upon frost onwards lines from a poem. He looked back at her. "It is dark out and late." He said pointing out the obvious. "What brings such curiousity and confusion to eyes so filled with life but integrated sorrow?" He asked poetically.