Dragoncrest Cliffs every demon wants his pound of flesh,

that’s fine!! I could tag someone to come in whenever he leaves :0

Her eyes snapped open at the chuff—somehow hearing it over the quivering waves. So she raised a slim, brooding head and turned her eyes toward the source; a burly male of tawny cream and honey, with the scent of Drakru on him. At least, from here, she supposed he was Drakru. Whether he was or not didn’t occur to matter, anymore; but what mattered was that the hopelessness 

Seeing that, the moon-pale brana rose to stiff legs, then picked her way down the horrid little crab and salted foam. Made way for him, and then stopped; slight paws sunk into clumped sand, and she simply gazed at him, eyes devoid of the gentle, stellar gleam they’d started to enliven with.

”I am Aure,” came the impassive, distant tone. Closer now, the scent of him so much more clearer—Drakru, and, if she wondered enough, tinged despondent. Her brow creased, her gaze sharpening like the points of icicles despite their pack-relation. ”I have not seen your face before.”