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Nefarian had been wandering, well, since he had been old enough to do so. He was always at his father's beck and call, a willing and eager servant to the God of Hate, but these days he spent more time on his own, bringing havoc wherever his paws did fall. It was this need to bring pain and hatred, which he seemed to feed off of, that had led the seer to be skulking about the Maestros Del Mar lands and he was loath to wander too far away from them until his thirst for destruction had been quenched.

He had met with a lion that called himself Blackbeard, a large and strong fellow. He knew where he was headed before he knew the task, yet he had the feeling that fun would be had and this was why he agreed to accompany the dark furred male. Mutiny was the name of the game and he couldn't wait until he could cause suffering to the throng of lions that pillaged and plundered. He didn't care about Blackbeard or his quest for the throne. All he cared about was the blood that would be shed in the process.

The male, who's fur was so dark, it seemed to devour the sunlight that fell on him, plodded along at a leisurely pace, his mind flitting over all of the things that were occurring in his life. It was rare for the seer to be caught unaware, but he was just that at this particular moment. He dreamed of being powerful, like his father, and ignored the twinge in his chest that told him to get out of the way while indulging in his flights of fancy.

The hefty, large lion was still preoccupied with his own thoughts when his attention was suddenly drawn, not by voice or scent, but by the sound of swiftly approaching paws. There was little in the way he could do to fend off the lioness's sudden onslaught. He turned in time to see her, his solid orange eyes, almost seeming to lack a pupil until closer inspection, widened in surprise. He went to turn, to round himself to meet her fangs and claws with his own, but he could not avoid the sharp weapons that raked his side. He snarled in a medley of alarm and pain as he turned on her. He was blinded with a sudden surge of pain and anger. He loved anger, he fed off of it, but he didn't like to be angered and he would be swift and merciless in his revenge for the brazen attempt on his life and dignity.

Crimson streaks began to emerge beneath his black as night pelt, where her claws had ripped flesh, but he paid little mind to it and lunged at the blood-coloured female, his claws seeking flesh and his fangs seeking her life force. He was in no mood for her shenanigans on him.

Perhaps it was the wily, half-crazed look in her eyes or perhaps it was the not-quite-right tone to her voice as she taunted him, or maybe it was even just a sense that something was off. Either way, he knew almost right away that there was something exotically different about this lioness that had dared to attack him and something stirred in his chest; a sort of excitement was consuming him and he relished the sensation of his claws ripping through her flesh in a primal, beastly way.

"Of course I want to play." He hissed, a broad grin replacing the scowl that contorted his features only mere seconds ago, revealing his tinted, ivory fangs in a somewhat sadistic delight.

"Not everyone in the savannah are soft-pawed ninnies, like wherever you came from, I can assure you." He laughed, her challenging roar encouraging, goading him on. He braced all four paws against the hard, hot earth and bellowed his own in response, tail flicking this way and that in feline excitement.

She wasn't trying to kill him, something he understood on an instinctual level, but she would cause him harm should she get near enough to him. Her tail flicked this way and that and she laughed the laughter of a being that wasn't exactly right in the head, not that he could really tell, as he was about right there with her.

"Playtime."

The inner voice, the one he often coerced with, reminded him of what she had said, before growing silent. Nefarian laughed heartily with the half-mad lioness. This was going to be fun. It wasn't every day he met a kindred spirit.

"A lioness after my own heart." He smirked, his limbs taut as he prepared to spring after her. All four paws left the earth simultaneously as he kicked off with his hind legs, loping forward to close the space between them. The fire in his side, where she had already clawed him, stung, but that sensation only added to his ecstatic and excitable nature in her presence.

"Unfortunately!" He replied with glee, although he didn't truly mean it. It was nice meeting a kindred spirit, but he preferred to be the hunter in most situations and toying with game was most fun. A hearty rumble began deep in his chest, causing his throat to vibrate with a... Pur? He was purring as the female took opportunity to strike at him.

"What is hellspawn doing out here?"

She would land the hit and he knew it, but he didn't dread it and, if anything, he almost looked forward to the burst of pain that would soon follow. He claws sank into his flank and he took the opportunity to try and snag her back fur and flesh in his fangs.

The pleasure she took out of pain and blood, both his and her own, was intriguing and that thick, delicious purr of his never quavered as blood seeped from the now open wounds that littered his dark, furry flesh. She ripped herself from his grasp, leaving behind blood and fur in his sharp fangs. His rough, pink tongue wiped away the leavings from his fangs and lips as he took a few tentative steps away, putting a small bit of distance between himself and the strange, crimson lioness.

"As I said earlier, after my own heart." He gave a throaty chuckle. He leaned forward slightly, not putting much weight on his rear leg. Blackbeard would surely question him about his wounds, later, but he didn't much care about that for the time being. He had doubts over whether or not this lioness would do well playing a waiting game... Probably not, so he didn't bother proposing she join him in his mischief in Maestros Del Mar. Other fun, however... Now that he could do. He felt like a cub again. He hadn't had this much fun in ages.

"Have you found anything interesting, then?" He implored, tail flicking in genuine feline curiosity.

"Nothing more than a figure of speech, dear." His tongue ran across his fleshy, somewhat damp nose, as he watched her flex her paw. There was a strange sense of pride in seeing the damage he had caused across her frame and in knowing that she had done equal damage to his own. Pain stung across his being and while he was no stranger to agony, it seemed different this time around. For the first time since he was but a cub, it was as though he had a playmate. Or at least one that existed outside his own mind.

"That is a disappointment." His grin turned to a slight scowl at her report. Really? Nothing? He'd harassed a few lionesses in the past, though he hadn't physically harmed either. They belonged to prides and the last thing he needed was a mass of lions against one. He might have gifts, but he wasn't immortal.

Maybe we can find something. Someone. Someone to play with? The voice whispered delightfully in the back of his mind, feeding him ideas, and a shiver of delight coursed down his spine at the suggestion.

"Maybe... Maybe we can find someone interesting?" He offered up, grinning wryly, as his dark tail twitched behind him.