[center][h1][color=SlateBlue]Alysse BlackWater[/color][/h1]
[img]https://imagesvc.timeincapp.com/v3/fan/image?&c=sc&w=488&h=275&url=https://winteriscoming.net/wp-content/blogs.dir/385/files/2017/03/GoT-s7-promo-19-Dragonstone-steps.gif[/img]
[i]"Make way for the Night."[/i]

Booted heels clacked on the floor in a sharp announcement of that the Matriarch of the Blackwater Coven had arrived. The whispers of the flowing sleeves of her gossamer robe and sight chime of the glass bells that tinkled merrily. A offset of the born killer of man and beast alike. The robe she wore was of a fine silvery-grey, over a heavier drape of night black that fell much closer to her skin than it's feathery cousin. Woven Leather belts held the normally billowing fabric tight to her torso. Tight black pants left less than the robes did to the imagination and made many a man and women imagine what could happen in a night spent with the Ironteeth Witch. She strode to her chair, her head held high. As well she should. Alysse Blackwater of the Blackwater Coven was stunningly beautiful and she knew it.

Pulling out one chair for herself she sat in it. Making sure it was middling in the table's length. She wanted to get a better feel for her compatriots. And rivals. This man, this King. Lancelot. Her golden cat eyes gleamed with delight as she viewed all before her and partook nothing. A Ironteeth witch did not take what was offfered, they took what they desired and be damned to whatever stood between the witch and her [i]want[/i]. It was a lesson her mother's Coven had taught her and she had taught her Thirteen. It was a lesson this Lancelot knew as well, it seemed. He was creating a masterpiece and Alysse saw no reason to aid in a good alliance for her Coven. She folded her hands in her lap, observing the scene and the folk about her.

If things went well... If they succeeded in carving out a good territory and securing their use in this Kingdom. If, if, if. So many ifs. Alysse didn't allow the frown she was feeling to grace her features. She had accepted the terms- to a point- and she was ready to secure those terms no matter the price. The price was for the weak to the pay for the strong's survival. So had it been and so would it be. She did however let that small smile slip through. Allowing a polite and gracious look upon her face. This was all a game to the Ironteeth Witch and it would be a very interesting one. Flipping her long moon, silver strands away from her face, she continued to watch and analyze all about her.
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