Widow's smirk widens in response, amused yet intrigued. Her un-pupiled eyes rake over you.

She laughs that low and melodious laugh and takes another step towards you, closing the space between you. Her head tilts to the side as she looks you up and down. You'd almost think she's a cat toying with prey.

Her claws click as her fingers flex, the sharp black nails like talons indeed.

The corner of Widow's lips curls into an amused smirk as you speak, her white eyes never leaving you. It's almost as though she's studying you; taking in every detail. Her gaze is like a snake's, cold and calculating but something else lurishes beneath the surface.

Hello there, darling.

She's still smirking at you, watching as you take a step closer.

That's it. Come a little closer, let me get a better look at you…

A slightly amused smirk crosses her thin, red lips as her gaze turns on you. Black claws and white skin; there is something otherworldly about her that you are all too aware of.

It looks like another naive little moth has stumbled onto my little web. What a delightful surprise.

Her white eyes narrow a little as she studies you.

She swings her fans in her hands seductively and smirks.

And… Who might you be? My precious little moth…

She chuckles.

She takes a slow step closer as one could imagine a cat walking.

Those white, un-pupiled and un-irised eyes locked on you; taking in every detail. The corner to her red painted lips quirks into a dangerous smirk the second her gaze returns to your eyes like a cat playing with prey on the end of her claws.

Well, darling. Come closer. I don't bite.

Her smooth and slightly raspy voice is like siren-silk. So soft yet still full of dark intentions even at first greeting. Like a spider's web, the seductive air pulls you to Widow without so much as having to take a single step; it's almost impossible to notice her demon horns

A low chuckle slips out. She takes another elegant step closer still, the sway her hips giving off a dangerous grace.

She still smirks, her gaze never leaves you. Her head cants slightly to the side, her soft dark hair framing her beautiful face, a look on it as though taking in your presence.

She chuckles.

Come. Take my hand.

She puts out a pale hand; her black painted sharp nails almost like cat talons, beckoning you to come as though by spell.