fluttering your lashes like ashes and embers

Alastor approached, and Lotte felt that instinctual flash of tension that came from being a thing being preyed upon, when his footsteps traced that little half circle around her, cat-like smile carved into his expression. The sharpness of it made it look false, even beyond the exaggerated ways that every part of Alastor suggested something slightly more, or perhaps less, than human.

"Oh? Are you the answer to my prayers, then?" Lotte watched him, even as his own eyes stayed fixed on the horizon beyond her. Could it still be called praying when it was for a demon, for that matter?

Lotte was certain she was guilty of plenty of blasphemous things, her odd acquaintanceship with Alastor not the least of them. Some would happily say that her very existence was spitting in the face of God, that she was an abomination, unholy, profane.

"I'm sure I'll commit plenty of sins, and I doubt I'll apologize for most of them," she admitted. "I certainly have no intention of apologizing to anyone for bringing you here."

There were so many reasons she might have been proud of Alastor's presence here, but none of them included taking credit for him. No, to be that vainglorious was something even two very full glasses of very strong whiskey couldn't muster out of her. Lotte doubted she had it in her to dream up something like Alastor, anyway. He was so much more extraordinary than she'd expected, and so much more ordinary too. After all, what stood beside her was not some crazed, infernal beast, but a man. And as much as she was sure Alastor would have liked her to believe he was truly that wolf in sheep's clothing, he simply seemed far too... human.

That wasn't to say Lotte thought him gentle or domesticated by any means. Every invitation was the flipping of a coin, and there was no guarantee her luck would hold.

But there were moments - for every truly odd or supernatural thing Alastor did, he did something contrarily human. Whatever Alastor truly was, whatever he was made up of, at the core of it was something that had once been as much a man as she was a woman.

"I wouldn't presume to take credit for you, but there's some pride to be had in praying for what you want at all, isn't there?"

Her eyes followed his out to the horizon and Lotte grinned a little. "If you tell me you make a lot of return social calls to other witches, I'll be very down in the mouth."