<div align="center"> <div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Valsefiel, Harvestor of Finality</div><div class="spoiler_body">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/aa/21/0d/aa210df853da5f4f911a44090f608434--arch-angels-female-warriors.jpg)</div></div><br/><br/>In the training hall with the Mortal Realm prince, she stood at ease, hands folded behind her back like a graceful and finely crafted soldier of light and glory. Had her form been completely washed with the colors of marble and alabaster, she would have looked like a painstakingly detailed statue, beautiful enough to grace the enclave of any cathedral of worship. Her words of greeting had caused the Dragon Prince to utterly destroy his training dummy, but she hadn’t so much as flinched, staying true to her illusively statuesque nature. Only her eyes moved, watching with mild amusement as it skidded to a stop. Those gold eyes slowly trailed back to the Dragon Prince as he called to the attendants to then take his burdensome armor from his shoulders. Refined in all his other attacks, he had such a lack of control just from hearing her voice. Her statue-like serenity was laced with a sort of satisfaction at the knowledge that the flames inside a Mortal Realm Dragon were always burning molten hot, even at a setting for peace talks.<br/><br/>Her glittering sunlight eyes swept over the Dragon Prince. He was an inch taller than her, scaly looking in his natural protections of flesh and yet without wings which, to her knowledge, was odd for his kind. He was strong, powerfully built, though not as fearsome as an Ancient Angel or Demon usually was. Valsefiel had seen but one Ancient, an Angel of massive proportions from all the energy it had accumulated over the centuries, and to say that was the first time she had feared for her immortal being was an understatement. In its sights she had, for once, been able to relate herself to that of a mortal child.<br/><br/>But none the less, when the Mortal prince stripped his armor away she took note of the impressive build even one of the Mortal Kind could carve for themselves. Though he was very... reptilian. She still couldn’t get past the reptile appearance of the Dragon Kind. It was just so... unsettling. So outside her realm of comfortable angelic normality. Had he a more humanoid appearance, she was sure he would have been extremely handsome. Her young ways found him fascinating, to be examined from frill to foot to take in every detail she had never had the change to take in before on a living Mortal Kind. But from her Angelic eyes, all she could see was a savage ugly creature, deemed beneath that of her own kind to be ruled over, if not completely disregarded for its lack of traditional beauty. A Human Kind was more beautiful than Dragon Kind, to her Angelic mind.<br/><br/>However, she was still a bit unclear as to the difference between all the different races and precisely <em>why</em> they considered themselves all different. They were all Mortal Kind to her, and in her mind if they could breed with one another, then they were not so different at all. But it hardly mattered in the end. They were lesser beings, and if they decided to fight among themselves so be it. It only made her duties easier. Infighting was a blessing on a battlefield. Here it could be lethal for all, what with the grotesquely large army of jailors outside the walls of the mountain palace that was their prison. <br/><br/>“Apologies are not required,” her gilded voice wound like the warm coils of a divine serpent, content to entrance its prey for the moment, “I do not often take delight in linger in rooms meant for sleep.” She noticed his fingers curl on the hilt of his weapon. Her gaze lifted to his eyes and she tipped her head forward a bit, in greeting and respect, though mostly for formality’s sake. And at reward of amusing her and not disappointing her with his naturally violent nature peeking through. His sword was handed off to a servant and her glittering eyes never wavered from his face. Not until the fins on his head started to move.<br/><br/>Her head turned to the side, looking down the path the broken off training dummy had taken. <em>Revolting,</em> her well educated Angelic mind rebelled at baring the sight. To have things that <em>moved</em> about the head like that... But as he said her name, she turned her head to look him in the eyes once more. Her body began to move then, in slow and graceful motions, to place both feet together, on hand delicately over her collar bone, the other at her stomach. She bowed with lowered eyes, the poise of a living statue unmistakeable. More human-like ways of movement were still not in her grasps of mastering. For now.<br/><br/>“To meet you, a valiant adversary of my kind, is honorable,” she lifted her head and gave him a smile, for it was said smiling was taken as the most friendly of facial expressions. Valsefiel lifted her body in fluid and slow ease, back into a position of standing. Her gold eyes did not miss his analyzing gaze, though she could not recognize the emotional turmoil her being before him caused. <br/><br/>“In truth,” she tilted her head back, looking around the training room, then up to see is she could find an end to the high ceiling or any bare hint to a break towards the sky, “I came merely to satisfy my own curiosity of you.” Her eyes drifted like feathers back to him. “I was not dissatisfied,” Valsefiel smiled in her distant way, imagining the feel of his beating heart embracing the tip of her sword and bursting outwards, red blooming on the perfection of her form’s alabaster skin.  <br/><br/>He approached her and a kind of scent perfumed the air. Curious. Did all Dragon Kind do that? They usually smelled like blood and metal and fire when in battle. Or was it battle that smelt of those things. Her movements were startlingly quick. In one moment she was as serene as a statue, then next she was invading his personal space, and almost pressing her face to the curve of his muscular neck. Her hands did not touch him though. They were still folded behind her back. Her breath brushed over his neck as she took in his scent with wide-eyed curiosity. Leaning back in another too-quick movement, she tipped her head to the side and looked at him.<br/><br/>“I was unaware Mortal Kind had scents like this,” she offered in brief and a bit puzzled explanation. A moment of most likely stunned silence, then she separated herself from his personal space in just a bit too slow and languid movements. A slow blink of golden eyes and then she turned her head, to speak towards one of the attendants in her distant way. “The flight here left me in need of something to replenish myself.”<br/><br/>The attendants looked a bit confused, peering uncertainly from one to the other.  Perhaps she meant she was hungry? “A meal will not be served for a while, surely,” one whispered nervously to the other, fingers fidgeting amongst themselves.<br/><br/>“Would you... like to be shown to the kitchens then...? Or...?” The boldest of them spoke directly to the angel, glancing nervously between angel and dragon prince.<br/><br/>“Kit-chen,” she mulled over the words, tasting it on her tongue, then nodded once, “I have read of those. Lead me there.” She looked to the Dragon Prince. Was it customary to offer another delegate to join her? Well, there could not be much harm in it, no offense to take or receive. It wasn’t like she was asking to devour his energy, or anything. “Would you like to accompany me to the kitchens?” Valsefiel offered politely, as if she had never invaded his space and lifted breath across his neck at all.<br/></div>