Despite the desire to intimidate her, she's unimpressed. His snarling face and narrowed eyes don't scare her anymore. Did they ever? However he's changed...it doesn't matter to her. She cut those ties long ago when he broke his promise to her. His acidic words make her laugh, loud and amused as she shakes her head. "Jealous much? Everybody but you, honey." She doesn't reward him with any sort of vinegar in her tone, instead it's mocking in how sweet and sugared it is. Her mother would have been proud, had Hotaru at all cared what her dam thought of her. She is relaxed in her posture, because he is beneath her now, a peasant before a queen. Oxy's words ring in her head, and while the druggy wasn't the best of references, she already knew that Tingal had nothing on her. Old memories couldn't be used against her anymore. He had no remaining power over her.

She laughs, low and mocking, as he tries to spit her own words back at her. Hotaru should have known better than to try and summon concern for the striped hybrid. It seemed civility was a long dead possibility between the two of them. It wasn't much of a loss in her eyes. "Never claimed to change, sweetheart. Stubborn bitch is probably my favorite descriptor." She flicks her plume idly, head high and royal, refusing to show any sort of emotion aside from those she crafts purposefully to show him. He has missed out on so much, including the moments when she came into herself, became stronger and more in control of who she was and what she could do. He would never know her as he once did, not again. He had burned that bridge and then begged to rebuild it. She had denied him, and now he was nothing but a shell, a bitter container of rage and broken hopes. Let him think her promiscuous, because it would never be him who would seek carnal comfort in her body. He would never be worthy of the canvas of her flesh. Let him posture and flex all he wanted. She had defeated him in battle once before, and she would find no shame in doing so again. With the life inside of her, she never would, would rather be seen as cowardly for fleeing. It would never be cowardly to her if it kept her precious child from harm.

He moves towards her, and she lets him touch her for a fraction of a second before dancing from reach. As she always had, always would. Forever untouchable, unable to be caged or tamed. "Shall it be female, her name will be Arya. If it will be male, his name will be Albion." Why the hell is he interested in the name anyways? She watches him with her differently hued orbs, concealing her wariness as she dances from his grasp gracefully. He walks round her, and she firms her stance, prepared to beat his ass into the ground if he even tried to do anything. Did he not remember how he'd shamefully lost to her before she was even an adult? She would remind him, vividly, if he attempted to harm the one life she loved most resting inside her.

I'm not a girl, I'm storm with skin