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The black paint reaver limped along the path, headed away from the stronghold and its many celebrations. Their last Viking had been brutal, Captain Ragnvard's ambition was well known, but the sheer height of it, the Captain's audacity, was beyond belief. Samael wasn't at all sure if the lion he called Captain was entirely sane. The band had set out as usual and quickly found a group of rogues. However they had clearly been experienced fighters, and they had outnumbered the small raiding party three to one. Ragnvard had refused to leave them alone and ordered an attack. The Stormborn Lions had triumphed but the toll had been high. All of them had come away with injuries, some of them serious. The rest of the band had been thrilled with the fight, and we're at that moment deep into the mint and fermented fruit, singing of their individual victories and showing off the loot they had won. While the thrall they had dragged back served them fruit and meat constantly.

Samael wasn't so sure of the entire fiasco. Lucivar would never had made such a reckless move and Sam was starting to appreciate the differences between the two Captains. Sighing heavily he paused and licked at the deep bite wound on his foreleg. The pain wasn't the worst he had ever suffered, but it was more than enough to keep him sober and troubled.

Unlike the lioness, Samael didn't pay attention to his surroundings, nearly running right into über before her voice broke into his thoughts, drawing up sharply he squinted against the darkness. His front paw held up off the rocky ground, clearly painful.

"It is a good day to die." He returned, gaze finally locating her in the darkness only for his eyes to widen slightly. She was gorgeous! Her coat holding a very fine purple and black colouring, with a stunningly slim physique. In fact she was so pretty even in the shadows that he almost swallowed his tongue. Forgetting his injury he bobbed his head in a bow, one of the things he remembered his old Captain doing that the ladies always seemed to appreciate from the big brown Captain. Maybe it would work for him too. "What is a beauty like you doing all the way out here? The pride calibrates tonight..." His tone honestly curious, for once lacking the slimy suggestiveness he typically employed.

Sam grinned as he saw her look of surprise, and was that a hint of pleasure in her expression? Surely she had been told many a time just how pretty she was, for she was indeed glorious. But maybe other males were just too scared to tell her? Pondering that thought for a moment he surprised himself with a flash of possessiveness. He wanted to be the one telling her how lovely she was, and no one else. Not a very flattering trait he was sure, most females seemed to prefer the very strong, or honest ones. Resisting the urge to wrinkle his nose at the thought of Lucivar, Ragnvard or any of the males who attracted females so easily, he smiled at her again, ears pricking at her reply.

"Is anything the matter?" He asked in an uncharacteristic moment of generosity. "You don't have to be anywhere you don't wish to be. And if anyone else says different, just let me know." He added, pulling himself up a little before his paw suddenly pulsed with pain again, reminding him of the recent injury. Wincing he glanced at the offending limb, sighing in reply as he shrugged faintly. "Bitten by a flea-bag rogue. It'll heal, its just painful to walk on."

Her smile felt like a hammer blow to his chest, but instead of pain, a warmth spread there. She had actually smiled, and no in that way of most females when he spoke to them, as if they were humouring a slow cub, or simply trying to disguise their anger. No, her's was genuine and to his surprise, he felt an answering smile curl across his muzzle.

"I'm glad. No one as pretty as you should feel down." He replied, voice a touch softer than before, his revelation bright and tingling in his mind. She likes me. He had trouble getting past that fact, but managed to avoid making a fool out of himself when she asked her next question. Glancing down at his paw, he briefly wondered if he should thank Ragnvard after all. For otherwise he would have been unlikely to run into this beautiful female.

"Mint sounds like a very good idea..." He mused after a moment, looking back up to meet her gaze, a warm and welcoming grin on his muzzle. Moving forwards to stand beside her, his limp still noticable but his mood considerably lighter, he tipped his head, indicating for her to lead the way. After all, he hadn't been invited to the party and didn't know where they were going. "Maybe I could persuade you to introduce yourself first?" He suggested with a softer smile, gaze playful. An expression few ever saw on the patchy male. "I'm Samael, it is a pleasure to meet you."

His laugh surprised him as she appologised with such an embarassed and scandalised look on her face. It was perhapse the first true laugh he had uttered in a long while. Refusing to allow thoughts of his current dilema to sour his mood he grinned at her, teasing yet warm. Laughing with her, not at her.

"Karaliskas Hinokosdottir... That is a very impressive name." He returned, dark eyes twinkling. "Lissa..." He repeated, tasting her name on his tongue and finding that he liked it very much. His grin flashed again as he motioned with his wounded paw -it was already held up off the floor anyway- for her to lead the way. "I shall follow you, my dear." He replied, equal parts shocked and surprised at the turn of events this evening, but beyond pleased with it.

Unaware that she was wondering about the origin of his name, he would have had to disapoint her, for he had never thought to ask and his parents ahd both died some time ago.