He followed her for days, delusional and convinced the tables had turned. That he was once again the hunter, the predator, and she was running from him. His sabre cat skull once again securely adorned him, and as he passed a pool of water, his reflection spurred his arrogance. His fearsome visage once again looked back at him, made even more so by his gaunt, battle-scarred frame.

But eventually he realized that he had fallen for her game again, and she was simply leading him around like a ringed bull being led by a rope.

Her game infuriated him, and he frequently called out to her in frustration, knowing she ran just out of his sight. His anger set the birds alight, and warned any prey he might have dined on.

All part of her little game.

The fact that she could read him so well angered him even more, but nothing was as infuriating as his flagging strength. His body still recovering from hunger and wounds, he slowed his pace, refusing to play her game anymore.

"I am done, pretty stalker," he growled, knowing she would hear him. His ego took a nasty blow as his weary body forced him to a halt, fatigue making his muscles quiver and his head hang as he panted to catch his breath. His claws dug into the soil in annoyance at his weakness, wondering for the first time if his godhood was failing him.

"Mmm, I enjoy toying with you, Death," Lachesis murmured and she watched with a smile as his head snapped up. She sat daintily on her haunches not 5 feet from him, and the gray femme could see his personal annoyance in his eyes at not only letting her sneak up on him, but letting himself be startled by her sudden appearance.

"What is wrong, little king? Are you tired?" she teased him, watching in delight as his hackles raised and anger snapped in his alluring bi-colored eyes.

"I only grow weary of your games, little b***h," he snapped, and suddenly he was on her, pining her to the ground with his still considerable weight. A mad gleam had come to his eyes and he watched her as surprise flickered through her eyes. But he was denied any sign of fear, and the gray femme lay almost placidly beneath him.

Wary of her razor sharp, enormous canines, he pressed a paw heavily to her throat, effectively rendering them useless. He could feel her throat working as she tried to breath past the pressure on her windpipe, and he marveled at her stoicism.

"Now it is my turn to play a game, Lachesis," he murmured, his fetid breath turning the air she could barely breathe into something sour. He saw the mild surprise at the use of her name, but still she seemed to focus entirely on breathing as he pressed down harder with his paw. "I have you, clearly. The question is, do I let you live? Or kill you and use your body as the food that you have denied me on your little game of chase?"

Thanatos was not above cannibalism, having sated hunger on the bodies of his enemies before, but he was oddly loathe to tear into her flesh for sustenance.

Lachesis breathed shallowly, opening her windpipe as much as she could, though his weight would do damage soon enough. She smiled though, and enjoyed his quick rage at her nonchalance.

"My demise will not come from your teeth, Death. My sister Clotho spun a pretty tale to me before I set off to follow you. Would you care to hear it?" she questioned lightly, her words a little breathy as her body began to demand more oxygen.

As she had predicted, he took an interest in her words, and eased his crushing paw from her throat, allowing her a few deep breaths.

Once again she commanded the situation, and she smiled.

Growling, Thanatos let her breathe, intrigued by her words. Clotho had been the b***h to decide his fate, and he foolishly had believed her words. The fact that they had come true in an entirely different way meant nothing to him, as his pride forced him to forget his stupidity.

"Do tell, pretty stalker," he growled, warning edging his tone.

Breathing deeply, she stretched beneath him, wiggling enticingly, and watched his eyes flash with sudden male interest. "She spoke of pups, Death. Mewling balls of fur, in our likenesses. Your bloodline passed down, through me. Interesting tale, is it not?"

She watched as his gaze turned first hot with male instinct, then calculating, his focus diverted. If she moved now, she would escape his currant hold, but she wouldn't make it far.

Instead she waited, choosing her words carefully.

"You fancy yourself a god? What god doesn't have powerful offspring to assist him in the world? Oh...that would be you," she cooed, smiling vindictively up at him.

Thanatos snarled a warning, but his thoughts raced. She was right, of course. If he died...well, his bloodline would be left to Hypnos. The thought enraged him and he stared down at her with only half of his focus. "why would you bare me pups, pretty stalker? Would it be another game to you?"

Smiling, she simply said, "yes," and suddenly she was gone again, laughing at his foolishness in dropping his guard.

Oh how easy he was to manipulate! Her instinct to have puppies coupled with the pleasure she took at infuriating this self-proclaimed god-wolf made her a dangerous female around pretty little Death.

"b***h!" he snarled, howling his fury as he once again gave chase, too blind with anger to see how easily she played him. Instead, his thoughts roared with fury, and what he was going to do to make her pay for her games. Strength renewed by savage anger, he followed her.

Oh, she would bare his pups. But it wouldn't be a game.

It would be a nightmare.