Otter Creek bleed and blister

The dragon had to keep himself from uttering a dismayed snort at her answer. He had hoped that something had become of the foolish woman, but it seemed her overflowing hierarchy was keeping her in good health. He remained silent, that single eye retaining its glimmer of mild amusement. He eyed her as though she were merely a form of entertainment for him - if she was to overstep her boundaries into his solitude, then he would put her to use. "Mmmyyy hoome is iin the moountaains." The beast answered nonchalantly, glancing away to point his muzzle towards the towering spires that sliced through the North. She needn't know anything of the Vale - if she wasn't aware of the pack by his scent, then Raheerah didn't feel it necessary to elaborate.

"But. I suuggest that suuch a sssliight thiing as yoourseeelf shooould avoiid themmm. Theere aare monsteerrrs thaat roaam theeir shaadooowws." He added, again as nonchalant as ever, and looked back at her. His goal wasn't necessarily to drive her away; rather, he hoped to instill some curiosity in her, if only in part with his sick and twisted desires. A hunger to lure her from the safety of her pack and pick her apart, play games, whatever he could do to satisfy the lust for violence that inevitably pumped through his veins. His gaze remained unmoving from her, holding firm an unnerving stare despite the vague amusement in his expression.