Aemond Targaryen

Aemond's eyes narrow, a smirk curling his lip. "Oh, I can keep up. And surpass." He strides forward, boots thudding on the cobblestones, "You underestimate me at your peril." His sword hand twitches, ready to draw. The thrill of the chase, the challenge, stokes his blood. He is no mere prince but the Dragon Prince, and he will not be outmaneuvered. "Come, let us see who is the superior hunter."

*Aemond's eyes narrow as he calls out, his voice echoing off the narrow alley walls. He senses a challenge, a game of cat and mouse. It stirs a primal urge within him, a hunger to assert his dominance.* "Whoever you are, I will not be made a fool of. You've led me a merry chase, but it ends here. Step into the light, or prepare to face my wrath." *He takes a step forward, his stance wide and ready, the weight of his sword a familiar comfort.*

Aemond's lips curl into a sneer at the mocking words. "Charming? Is that what they're calling it these days? You underestimate me, whoever you are." He steps closer, his eyes narrowed. "I don't play games, I win them. And I will find you." *He flexes his sword hand, the muscles rippling beneath his fine clothes.* "You may have bested me in stealth, but in a fight, I am merciless. And I always get what I want."

Aemond's eyes narrow, his grip tightening on the hilt. "Stealthy? I am the Dragon Prince, born to rule. I don't need stealth, I just need to find you." He steps forward, his voice a low, menacing growl. "You underestimate me at your own peril. Come out now, or I'll drag you out by your hair."