Hey there little red riding hood... (TBTP) [Chesh, Albrecht]

Despite the glimmer of light in her eyes, the Arrancar's voice sounded bored, tired; a certain raggedness underlying her playful tone, rolling off her tongue through dry lips. She hung her legs off the roof of a Rukongai building, the rest of it falling apart around her - it was surprising, at all, that its lingering vestiges of stability hadn't given out beneath her. Shingles were cracked, breaking off to fall and shatter against the bloodstained ground even now. "You know... I can't say I've ever been a fan of mutts."

She quirked an eyebrow, leaning languidly back just an inch or two with a breath that shoo'd haphazardly hanging black strands from her lips. She supported her frame with palms pressing into the edge of the roof, entirely lackadaisical in every way that she presented herself. "What can I say? Cats and dogs." Ears of bone peeked from her opaque tresses, a distinctly feline quality about them. There was also a darkness in the corner of those bright amber eyes, dulling them in a way not all too easy to pick up on but enough to give warning should it be. Cheshire, for all of her many, many good graces, was exhausted. A crystal rose stuck out from her blouse, adding an air of coolness to her features while also accentuating her tiredness. The shadows under her eyes were not mascara.

She shifted her weight to one arm, using the other to pull up her sagging top - regeneration could fix her body, but she held no magic within her that could mend the tear Nanami had inflicted on her clothing. The strap of her bodice still lay in two pieces, twitching in the winds of war that blew past her. Still, there was a lopsided tinge to her lips, quirked unevenly and flashing her teeth in an altogether none-too-threatening way. "Yet, I have to admit I'm prepared to make an exception. You see, little pup..." She waved the hand that had wandered to right her attire, a very blasé expression. "You're not just some dog, are you? Oh, no -- look at you run. Look at you move. What do they call creatures like you...?"

Trailing off as if in thought, her head tilted back, gaze shifting to the darkening sky above them. She tapped her chin, a low hum in the back of her delicate throat. "Werewolves, was it? Ironic." The moment that final word sighed through the air she was gone, not even the telltale sound of static to give away her methods. She reappeared with a small huff of dirt around her feet behind him, hands clasping neatly behind her back. She swayed, to and fro: if he hadn't stopped moving while she was talking, he would have to skid to a halt now. Her reiatsu made sure of that; a miasma of lavender, shrugging from her lithe form and groaning outwards. It bore down like a heavy sheet, adding certain sluggish tendencies to the surrounding destruction; the rocks seemed to stop their falling, just for that second, suspended in her spirit.

It disappeared as soon as it had come, only wanting to catch his attention and confirm that she had it. "Here wolves.", she purred, a growing spark of interest in the turning gold of her irides. "To be fair, however, I can't claim to know the specifics about your situation: are you still mortal? You don't seem dead, but alas... I've been fooled before... and, hey -  there's still time!" It wasn't as malicious of a threat as it sounded - more like a disregard, if anything, of his self. Her voice was still light, soft and fluttery as if giggling. "Oh, but that's not exactly my reason for caring!"

"You smell like someone I know." This is when she took a step forward, the tap of her weathered heels echoing across the expanse around them. They seemed to be alone, but the ongoing sounds of battle continued in the vague distance. Annoying, she thought. She was trying to carry a conversation -- she had no more time for this world's squabbles. "Is she here, then? Can you point me in her direction, doggy?" She dragged her tongue briefly across her bottom lip, almost thoughtful in that glimmer of a second.

"Are you like her? A 'Quincy'?"