[hider=Genie~~<3!!][img]http://ow.ly/LP3Z7[/img][/hider]

Big white ears perked up. The heart within that fuzzy chest beat that much faster. Icy blue eyes scanned the immediate vicinity for the reactions of the others here. At the tip of her long snout, that dark nose took in more about the others than they could ever imagine. They were nervous it seemed, for 'She' was home again.

The sounds of the belly of the smelly beast clanking open. The sounds of 'her' and 'her' marching in. And with guests this time.  The scent of  guests new and old; that old was something in pain no longer. Thatch. Could it be this time he was something sumptuous that may be waiting for Genie and her massive chops? Perhaps but perhaps not. The assessment Genie took away from Thatch was that yes, he spoke in ill-timed sayings, ( [color=6ecff6]'Rule Numero Quoi du "Gentleman Pirate"...! Rule Numero--'  [i]Ah, asseyez-vous et fermez la bouche simplement! S'il vous plait![/i][/color] Ughs, if Genie could just facepalm) but he did seem genuine in accepting the alliance as a pirate-hunting pirate. [i]Peut-etre[/i] she would not eat him afterall. Maybe...

Her shaggy ivory coat shuddered as she stood upon all fours and shook it out. Icy blues peered over a shoulder and past her haunches as she stared, admired really, her wagging fluffy tail. A muffled yelp she let out as she scanned the helm. The others here were at the ready; a good thing they were not slacking off for 'she' was back on deck.

'She,' the Western Cross would not stand for slackers and neither would this wolf. If that's what you would call such a large thing. 

The shaggy white beast padded upon all fours over to the others here. She nodded at the Helmsman and at the Navigator. They nodded back at the wolf that was almost the size of a lion.  300 pounds of ancient werewolf and there was no way she would take any sort of disrespect from them regardless of their station or rank.   Genie had live much too long for that. And they knew that this wolf had bonded with their Commander. If Western Cross said to keep things in order at the helm while she was away, there was no damned way Genie would ever let things get out of order.

But it was not as if Genie was immune to fun and chaos. No, she was a playful cub at heart, but being bonded to another was no light thing. At all. How many centuries had she bonded with others? A light chuffing sound, akin to laughing escaped her throat. Too long perhaps? But at any rate, along the corridors the Ghost Wolf padded, icy blues taking in the demeanour and looks of all that she passed; all was in order. So far. Soft steps, astonishingly silent for something her size, briskly brought her towards where she knew the Commander would be; the Western Cross' greeting chambres.

For if there was one thing she learned over the centuries, it was that you needed allies to survive; a lone wolf was a very cooooooooool state of being, however, in reality, all that 'coolness' got you was killed or failure at every turn.  So over those years and years and years, Genvieve learned to bond and ally herself with those in positions of great opportunity or power. This was the way of the Ame-Soeur. The Deviant Kind. The Kindred Spirit Wolf. 

Yes, Genie did have her sisterhood and daughters made of her bloodline, but she knew it was not enough. And so in this decade, enter the crimson eyed Kushrina. What influence did this beauty have? What kind of power did she command?

More than enough for the Ghost Wolf to hide behind as she licked her wounds and rebuilt her own empire in the shadows. 

Yes, Mz. Commander Annaveya Kushrina Western Cross  was violent, impulsive, vindictive and even cruel, but she was also very cunning and commanded a very sizeable portion of armada to respect and oui, she did have much  clout within the armada. That, and Genie found her cute as hell. [color=6ecff6][i]Huahahahah... perks of being 'watchdog'.... the ol' Wolfie gets to watch out for the pretty commander... even in sleep... Elle est tres sexy, ne c'est pas? Huahahahah... [/i][/color]  

But non, Genie was not pervie. At all. Non, she did as she was asked. As long as she was fed and kept safe, she would do as asked.

That and as long as her boots were kept safe. Oh, how the ol' Wolfie loved her midnight hued suede boots and it long, long shiny ribbon laces. 

And so she was loyal to the Commander of the Dawn's Guard. For how many years it was, it neither felt short nor long to the Ghost Wolf, for keeping a bond was not about time. It was about maintenance. Oui, Genie had left time and again, but each time she did, rest assured the Ghost Wolf had returned. 

But there were others out there that she needed to provide 'bond maintenance' with; in particular a certain blue-headed sweetheart. Oh, how she played that one... but still, the blue-headed sweetie was of utmost importance to keep in alliance regardless of how brainless that blue-headed sweetheart was.

At any rate, here she was now. 300 pounds of Genie, sitting upon her haunches at the side of the Commander of the Dawn's Guard's lavish desk. A curiosity stricken tilt of the head she gave the newest strangers but that was all. Her tensed and obedient pose returned and she let her two and a half centuries old aura impress upon the strangers here.

A hole the size of a grapefruit was the Commander and Western Cross's usual threat of violence. But that was the easy way out. For if given the command, pain honed by centuries of experience would befall any that her bonded Anna commaded of Genie. Icy blues scanned the room and settled in upon each of the strangers, piercing them, assessing, ears and nose perked, listening to the heart that beat behind that bare chest and sniffing gently for the subtle pheromone changes. Any lies and Genie would know. And from that bond, Genie would send those empathic thoughts to Anna and await further instructions. 

If given the command, the next 96 seconds of his life would become too excruciating to endure for those that deserved 300 pounds of Genie assaulting rhem. If given the command, Genie's gargantuan muzzle would open and clamp down with nearly 4000 pounds of  pressure and rip off any body part she wished to rip off. Her immense maw would open and feed upon whatever she chose to feed upon and later that night she would dance in her lovely favoured black suede boots licking her lips and fingers as she spun and twirled.

With all her will, she resisted wagging her gorgeous fluffy white tail and remained motionless at the side of the Western Cross, icy blues scanning the strangers without moving her head... Save for a single  respectful, even affectionate nod towards the Commander of the Dawn's  Guard; 'She' was home once more.

 [color=6ecff6][i]Bienvenue encore, Madame... awaiting orders,[/i][/color] were her empathic sensations sent out to Anna,  [color=6ecff6][i]et j'ai faim aussi... if it so pleases, Madame, Genie may have dinner a bit early... huahahahah...  [/i][/color]