This automatically proved to be a difference between the two. If Hilo had never been put together for a second, Xithymia had been put together for every second of her life. It wasn't an obsessive nature that kept her clean, but it was a sense of superiority. Her family, unlike his, was already at the top. They were the creatures that everyone wanted to be. Maybe this was why every fur of Xithymia's coat was always tidily in its place; she understood how important it was to keep up appearances. She was better than the creatures who did not bare a similar pelt, and her neatness was a symbol of this. 

"Do you make it a habit of talking to yourself, or were your first few statements aimed directly at me and not the air that surrounded you?" Xithymia-kun asked him this question with the same detatchment that was used each time she spoke. She had a tendency of being distant. This brought many cats to mistakenly assume that she was unfocused, even unalert due to this nature of keeping herself at a distance from others. This was a false sentiment. Despite the fact that Xithymia walked around the world with an unnervingly vacant gaze and a general clinical detachment, she was always fully engaged with the world around her, perhaps almost to a fault. 

Normally, this detachment would prevent the she-cat from drawing close to the tom, but already, the she-cat knew that one of the jobs that she would soon face was procreation. This meant that she had to make at least some effort to get to know a few toms. It would be then that she could make a decision of who would be her best consort. Even though she was frankly hesitant about the fact the tom seemed to speak to himself, she would admit that he had been one of the creatures that had been on her radar, despite his messy nature. She was unsure why. 

Because of the necessity of socialization that Xithymia-kun was beginning to feel the pressure to do, she found herself crossing the distance between the two of them. She settled next to him, although not so close as to brush his furs. The idea of touching another creature outside of a medical examination was still rather repulsive to her. She had been told, though, that this would change with time. She had been told that one day she would crave such a touch, that instinct and duty would promote such feelings in her. However, they had yet to do so. 

"I appreciate your invitation," she meowed, although the words sounded odd in her voice. Had Xithymia said she appreciated anything in her entire life? "Your flattery, however, is not as effective in luring me into this interaction as the thought of sinking my teeth into something I have not caught myself. Perhaps it is something you should work on if you desire to succeed in securing yourself a partner." She said the words very matter-of-factly, as if they weren't an incredibly odd thing to say. For Xithymia, who never quite understood what was socially acceptable or not, they probably weren't strange. They were just the truth, and it was in Xi's nature to always tell the blunt truth.

There was something about his willingness to continue on whether or not she came to him that appealed to Xithymia. She had a natural adversion to cats who expected too much out of other cats, and she liked that he was willing to go about his life unbothered by whether or not he had company. She made a note of this in her head as a reason that perhaps this tom might be a creature to consider. At the same time, there was a strange part of her who was not used to attention being directly drawn upon her. In almost all social interactions, she was one of the focuses, and even though there was a part of her that liked that this was not automatically true with him, the other part of her didn't. It wanted his full attention. This was a strange desire for Xithymia, as she was a creature who generally was unconcerned with such trivial things. 

Casual rebellion seemed almost as alien to her as the desire for him to pay attention to her. She was a creature bound strictly to rules, at least in most cases. Of course, there were exceptions. She had no code of morality and valued science more than life. Her experimentation on other cats was questionable at best, and at worst, cats were starting to understand that if they were asked to meet her at her Hallow, they were being assigned to potentially receive a death sentence at the paws of the young mage. But, she was bound by the codes of Primal Instinct beyond that. She was a creature who knew not to overstep her position. She, unlike this tom, did not take pleasure in irking other felines, at least not in an intentional way.

When Hilo passed the prey over to her, she took a gentle bite out of the flesh of the creature's back leg. The flavor of it was rich, and, had she caught the prey herself, she would have been more than pleased at what the catch bore in terms of flavor. However, the prey bite was a gift, so she found no self-pleasure in eating it, nor would she express her satisfaction with the flavor to him. Still, she let the flavor meld over her tongue, before again she spoke in response to him.

"You would be surprised at the sheer mass of felines that I see that murmur to themselves as if the rest of the world is obtusely deaf. It was a particular problem with patients of cebri pestis. They would never cease their incessant chatter, and they only ever spoke to themselves." She tilted her head at the memory of the plague that had taken over Primal Instinct, the one that had turned her from a child into the mage. "I am sure that self-communication is not just limited to those who have experienced temporary bouts of insanity, though." She then tilted her head. "However, I am unsure that your method of communication was particularly rebellious, so I find the comparison to be rather inept at describing the situation to its best ability. I see the logic that you might have intended for the information to reach my ears, but I believe there is a false analogy in your speech."

She nodded once at this assertion, her glance moving over to him. She offered a blink of her eyes as she let herself ponder the next words he said. "Apparently, my taste is rather perturbed since I chose to come to you, I agree," she meowed with a flick of her tail. If she was a feline that would offer flirtatious smiles, perhaps this would be a moment where her retort would be paired with one. However, Xithymia wasn't and the words did not come out very flirtatiously, and instead came out as a flat observation. 

"I do not believe I follow you on your final assertion, though. To what do you mean, point, Hilo? What is this point? What is the bennefit of gaining such points?"

She didn't understand the snort, but, then again, she didn't understand most social cues. Unlike most cats of the clan, she had had no childhood. She had not learned how to play kit games and make friends. Hell, she hadn't even learned how to hold a conversation very effectively. There were two causes for that. The first was simply it was found early on that she did not play well with others. They say that intelligence mutes social skills, and this was true with Xithymia in particular. The second cause was that there had never been time for her to play. There had never been time for her to experience life outside the medical den. It felt like since the day her eyes opened, she was learning.

"I assume that your father has a greater wit than you. If it is true that cats truly stop being attentive after a few words, one can only imagine what a feline who communicates with him misses. He could be commenting on the fact you look like you have not wet your pelt with your tongue right to your face and you would have the capability to never realize." She said this with a tilt of her head. If Hilo was correct, and he truly had zoned out when she spoke, her own insult would fly just as far above his head as she implied it could.

Xithymia's own gaze followed his. It was a strange combination of looks, one vacant of all emotion and perhaps all life and one of clarity but disinterest. These two felines were odd sitting next to each other. They were so different, one composed and one messy, one small one large, one vacant one clear.

However, it seemed that the two had one similarity. If his brain was filled with thoughts and plans, so was hers. Granted, the two would be thinking of different things. Her brain was filled, but not with ideas of power and ambition. These things meant nothing to her; after all, her life had been planned for her since conception. She was born with power, both as a familial of the E'tani and also as the direct heir to the survival of the group. A mage, then, did not have to worry about scheming to gain power; power would come to her when the moment was right. Instead, her thoughts were consumed by considerations, some morbid, some not. Part of her thoughts were contained by this interaction, as she was still trying to decide if this tom was worth her time. Another sector of her brain could already see how interesting it would be to pull out each of the claws on his front foot and see what would happen. Would they grow back? Would he die of bloodloss?

The duo both craved information. While he would talk to kittypets to unlock social secrets of the world, Xithymia would hang felines from vines to unlock the secrets of death by asphyxiation. She was a scientist, afterall. Perhaps, if he was curious enough, he was one too.

Xithymia blinked away her thoughts when he spoke again. She almost felt her furs bristle at his comment. Instead, though, her gaze snapped to him with laser focus. "What do you mean, you doubt that I am involved with other felines? Felines come to socialize with me each day. I can seldom even get an afternoon without a creature pestering me about the cold they are experiencing since the weather has changed. Of course, I spend time with other cats!" She sounded as if she couldn't believe what he had said. Clearly, she did not understand the true meaning of his words. "Are you truly foolish?"

One day, she might appreciate the fact that he could be focused and unfocused at the same time. She would never admit it to him, as Xithymia was strongly against the idea of complimenting. (Far in her future, this would be an unfortunate reality for kittens born from the she-cat.) However, it was a skill she felt she did not have. Of course, she could be focused on two things at once when it came to her lab. But, that was different. She was completely comfortable in her hallow, or in the Shaman's den, or the Garden. The earth seemed to speak to her there. However, she had never been able to master such a skill outside of a practical. This was probably in part because of her lack of social skills in general. In normal conversation, she had to put all of her focus on the words that came out of others mouths, otherwise, she'd inevitably miss something.

"It almost appears to me that you have taken after your father at least in the most minute way, Hilo. It appeared to me that it took you more than a moment's worth of explanation to sort out what could have been proclaimed in a sentence." She tilted her head at him, her nose twitching slightly. Her nose did this every once in a while, equally because of her seasonal allergies and because it was a tell of deep thought. She was trying to understand this creature, and, let's just say, her ability to make sense of others was rather failing. "I appreciate, though, he appears to be a man of blunt nature. There are few such creatures in this hole in the ground in which we reside. It is far easier when you are playing with scoundrel's to speak in tongues." As these words came out of her mouth, she admitted they didn't make any sense, or at least, not the amount of sense she wanted them to make. She wanted to say that the cats around here danced around with their words a lot, seldom fighting directly. Cowards, the whole lot.

When the tom called her by the name, 'Xi', she paused. This was the first time in which she truly had been made to pause in another cat's presence for more than a moment. No feline had ever called her by that name. Perhaps, it was because, even when they looked down upon her for being a child, felines understood that she deserved respect, and respect could be found in her entire name. Perhaps it was just the fear that if someone called her a nickname without permission, they would be the next cat to go mysteriously missing. You see, already other creatures were learning that Xithymia didn't play nice, and that she would do just about anything for her beloved science. This meant that the other cats (they were normally her age) that crossed her tended not to come back. This had been particularly true during the plague times, when Xi really needed a reason to experiment on other creatures. For example, when a mother came in pestering her about how she was taking too long to cure her son of cebris pesti, she soon found that her very son had been given a toxic combination of herbs to see what would kill him faster, the poison or the disease. In the land of the liars, thieves and vagabonds, Xithymia's actions were seldom out of place.

The youth then sighed, glancing away from him for a moment. "My decision to sit with you was an insult to my own intelligence," she meowed, her lips twitching in ever so small a movement. "However, I suppose you are correct, almost. I interact with others solely on a medical practitioner and patient basis. You should consider yourself of grand luck that I bothered to pause my day to give you a fraction of my time, Lo," she meowed, trying her own hand at a nickname. It felt weird in her mouth. "Or, maybe you should not. I suppose I am not the one to make such a judgement." Her tail flicked. "Unless, of course, you want me to, in which case I can take you to my lab and we can figure together out how you should really feel after being graced with my being."

Xi, who had tried to make herself not sound offended by his response and the question even before that, had miserably failed at making herself sound any better. The twitch of her ear almost signaled this defeat.

Xithymia had no such conclusions to come to herself. Although she and her mother were related by a tight bond, the two seemed like different parts of the same solar system. Her mother could often be described as fire, a feline who could scorch the earth below her pawsteps. She could be reckless and brave, an often times good-natured feline who had at least some belief that she was made for more than healing. Xithymia felt just the opposite. She cared for very little outside of herbs and medical treatment. She had no use for picking fights on the borders or even particularly making friends. If her mother was fire, she was ice. Often times, she was cold, detached, clinical. There was seldom warmth that struck through her, and any time there was, it was strange, forced almost. The two, then, could be no more different.

Perhaps, even, she shared more in common with this tom than the feline who bore her, although her studying was not of what made other creatures tick. She was not interested in the humanities, the social sciences. She cared little who rose to power and who fell. Yet, she, too, was convinced she would one day come up with a perfect system for the world, a system of science, of steady calculations. A perfect world where she held the keys to who survived and who didn't. This, this was her goal, and it was a goal in which she would go down in the history books for achieving. She would make sure of it. She would understand it all, each system of the body, each herbal influence. What would happen if you let a cat twice-drown. What poison could kill fastest.

Perhaps, then, she had nothing in common with this tom. He wanted a world where cats were comfortable with expressing themselves. She wanted a world run by knowledge. She wanted to succeed, to be feared. She wanted to be known as the Doctor of Death, a feline who had little capacity for caring whether other lived or died. In her perfect world, she would hold the keys to life and death. This world could run however it chose, as long as she understood it.

Xithymia, too, had a lot of plans, all right.

She flicked her ear at his compliment, although she felt it was almost sardonic in nature. She didn't like that, didn't like the idea that he looked down upon her. She hated it, truly, and things that she hated were normally the first things to be destroyed in her next experiments. However, she knew that letting this frustration in her eyes would be allowing the tom to win, so instead, her gaze remained blankly staring at him.

"Of course you are," she meowed at his second sentiment, her nose twitching again. "After all, you were given a chance to impress, or at least try to, one of the most influential cats in the League. Not often do felines of limited importance get that." As soon as the words toppled out of her mouth, Xithymia's entire face crinkled. "Gods be damned," she muttered at herself. "That sounded too much like certain felines for my linking." Of course, she meant her family. Although she received her power through her family, she kept a high wall between she and the other creatures of Vera's line. She didn't like when she sounded too much like she was one of them. They were power-hungry in the temporal sense. They didn't want to understand the world, they wanted to rule it. And there was a part of the small feline that wanted nothing to do with that.

She quickly regained her composure, though, and offered a sweeping of her tail. This was a signal that her temporary lapse of temper at herself was over, and that he needn't comment on it. Of course, she figured he probably would. "However, all things considered, at the rate in which things are going around here," she meowed after a moment, "I almost believe you might be lucky to be tossed away like yesterday's carrion." She glanced around at the words, almost to make sure no one else was around to hear the slight blasphemy. "Things have not been nearly going the way that they should around here."

Xithymia blinked again. "Not that you have to worry about that, hmm, after all, the gods have gifted you a change of luck. First, easy prey, second, a companion, it's almost impressive."

"You have about three-quarters of a step before you stumble into something that I truly and honestly assure you you do not want to stumble into. Feel free to disregard my advice, but I promise you that you will be making a mistake."

The voice came from behind him just a little ways away. The first two words were partially obscured by the fact that she had a mouthfull of herbs in her jaw, but as soon as she spat those on the ground, her voice rang clearly. A single brow was raised on her face as she looked at him. The cats of Primal Instinct, the mage was convinced, had about three and a half brain cells evenly divided between them. This was only proof of it.

She then recognized who the tom was. At first, she had paid no mind in the creature who was actually about to regret every decision that had led him to this point in the day. On a closer look, though, she could tell that it was the tom that three days ago had shared with her one of the oddest meals of her life. He had just disappeared right in the middle of it. Perhaps, she should have just let him walk right into the trap as a form of payback.

i just wrote this and it had logged me out of my account and i lost the post because i hadn't thought about the fact i should log back in on desk top in case it had logged me out after being on mobile i cry

She could see it in his physicality that there was the temptation to do the exact opposite of what she said. There was a part of her that desired that he would, that he would try to spite her and end up with a rash so deep up his paws that he wouldn't be able to walk for a week. It would be an interesting experiment in the constructs of masculinity, and also in pain tolerance, as Xithymia surely would not help him had he gone directly against her will.

"I think that you may be mistaken by my priorities, dearest feline. Although you may have the time to consider my statements constantly, and I am truly flattered if you do, I have paid almost little mind to your question." She offered him a smile, her words sounding slightly more fluent today. It was as if she was trying to prove something, prove she did have some sort of ability to maintain a normal conversation. "However, I would appreciate a hint. Perhaps you could enlighten me with the deep truth of the universe."

He wasn't the only cat that was unsure what to make out of the snow-bengal. Very few had any idea what to make of her. It was kind of her style: confusing her opponents. That was absolutely untrue. It wasn't intentional that she was this way. She never anticipated that people wouldn't understand her. After all, in Xithymia's own head, she was perfectly understandable, even predictable. She was no different than any other cat in this group. They were, as a population, predictable.

"If we are being quite truthful with each other, I figured that your grandiose reason for leaving at that moment was that you needed to go to the bathroom." Her head tilted slightly. "Now, had you given me a riddle, something with tangible relevance to my existence, a problem to solve, then maybe I would have tried a little bit harder to comprehend the rationale behind your actions." There was a slight chide in her voice and the implication was clear: if he had given her reason to really put effort into thinking about him, she would have. This insight, though, was offered with a smug expression.

"Did I, now?" she replied, her gaze looking slightly distrustful of the tom. After all, it was clear that he was having some sort of emotional outbreak. Nothing that she had said was funny enough to insight that sort of reaction. Maybe, just inhaling the poisonous herbs he had planned on walking through was enough to cause in him a hysteria. That would be interesting; she'd have to test that hypothesis on someone else.

As he spoke about who she was born to, the look in the mage's eyes shifted slightly, darkened. Family in this group had been the only reason she had the position, but she was as ambivalent towards the bengal bodies as she was any other body in the group. Even her mother, to whom she was supposed to have the ultimate bond, she felt very little. Perhaps the tom had not picked up on this during their last interaction.

This made her interest in what he had to say even greater. After all, if it was something she shouldn't know because of her blood ties, it was something she wanted to know. Her blue eyes flashed, before she tipped her head. "I do have to say, this is the most intrigued I've ever been conversing with a feline of the opposite gender," she said with a sniff.