Dragoncrest Cliffs you could be king but watch the queen conquer

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The sound of footfalls drew Eske from her thoughts, the bitterness lingering upon her tongue even as her hackles bristled at the sound of approach. The foliage of the dark forest parted and she watched as Melchior emerged from the shadows of the trees, her steps grinding to a halt. Though her bristled hackles smoothed back to her nape and spine the Drakru’s tail gave a flick against her hocks when he spoke her name. “Careful. That enthusiasm might cause you to combust, Melchior.” Eske teased wryly, though she supposed she understood. She wasn’t overly friendly and her aggressive personality had the tendency to rub others the wrong way. For some reason, this bothered her but instead of generalizing she narrowed it down and drew the dots haphazardly: Melchior and his pale brother, Arlo were the only others in Drageda close to her age now and she realized that even though she wasn't sure how she felt about the two boys she had youth in common with them, at the very least.

On the opposite spectrum, she told herself that letting others close just opened up the opportunity for them to hurt her, so, perhaps, she thought, things were better this way. Without anyone that she truly considered close to her there was an impregnable wall between what made her vulnerable and the outside world. She’d had three betrayals that would always sting smartly: she didn’t need (nor want) any more. She drew in a short, near inaudible breath as she eyed the blonde boy, left to her assumption that he, too, was patrolling. “I can walk and talk at the same time,” She informed him, subtly offering for him to join her without coming out any saying it forthright. After a moment she added as an afterthought and a cant of her head: “but you’re free to keep going on your own.” with a shrug of her elegant shoulders. Either way, she intended to keep going on her patrol whether he joined her or he did not.

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