[center][img]http://i1082.photobucket.com/albums/j362/LillianThorne/my%20stuff/Siya.png[/img][/center] Siya stood before the werewolf whose heart she held in her tiny palm and glared viciously up at him. Her expression, though intended to be intimidating, never quite made it there since her doll like features did not lend themselves to that sort of thing. Neither did the fact that she was wearing a man’s shirt that was too large for her and buttoned incorrectly on top of that. While looked good on her, it did not make her something to be feared. But the hand around his heart made up for her lack of intimidation in other regards. So when she snarled at him to show himself, he clearly found it in his best interests to comply. She narrowed her eyes and nodded her head in approval when he lowered his head revealing a broad, crude wolf’s face lacking the grace and beauty of Veti’s wolfen form. She wondered if she saw fleas as she pinned him with her glare and waited for someone much better at this sort of thing to come and take over the interrogation. She had never engaged in such and moreover she was too frustrated to do more than snarl and lightly tighten her fingers periodically just to see him twitch. She wondered how it felt and might have asked despite her intention to let someone else grill him when Atticus’ voice called out for her to be done with him. She pouted and shrugged her shoulders at her prisoner. “You heard him.” She said apologetically and with no further ado, crushed his heart like a ripe tomato. His eyes flew wide and a wet noise burbled from his throat before he began to slump to the floor. She let him slide off her shadowy arm and when he was clear of it, thudding to the floor she opened her hand and let the dark wet mass fall to the floor with a plop. She regarded her hand, covered in rich, dark heart’s blood for a moment before lifting it to her delicate nose and sniffing it. It should have been delicious, it should have been a treat, but it wasn’t. It smelled wrong, flat and uninteresting. She wrinkled her little nose and bend to him, wiping her hand on the strange cloak that pooled around him, visible now that his life had fled him. She took a moment to undo the clasp and then tug the strange slippery fabric out from under him with some soft grunts of effort. She was strong, stronger than she should be and coursing full of a fresh influx of demon blood but he was huge and it wasn’t an easy thing. She managed to not rip it and only curse a few more times before she freed it. Balling it up she trotted over to Atticus holding out the cloak for him. “I brought you something.” She said as she stood next to him, slipping into the large, winged shadow he cast. She regarded those large leathery wings and fought the urge to caress them, thinks were entirely too critical for such frivolous thoughts, yet even so she found them drifting back into her head. She focused on her employer and Veti’s friend, Semyon who was not giving them welcome news at all. “I can slow the bleeding.” She said wrinkling her nose not looking forward to having to comply with the offer. “It will help with his pain but I cannot do anything with the wound or stop the bleeding all together.” She looked towards the others, hoping they had something better to offer than she.