Blackbeak Bluff old yellow bricks

8))

”Straight to the penetrating, I see.” The soft winds of winter took Vonn’s voice, made it melodious and throaty, and ferried it across the way to the creamed male and his quarry. The tone wasn’t without cheer—rather, it was full of jest, and was more real than the speaker, at first.

The beholder followed his own suit, a moon-bright glint in his eyes and an infuriating smile chatted along his lips. The past several days, he had passed through claim by claim, hoarding those wandering souls to make bid of Stigmata’s debt. In that time, too, he was regret to admit that perhaps he was as deprived as the Diaspore general had promised.

But with the scarred make of cream-beige before him, and the warmth unfurling beneath his own pelt... perhaps that may be amended.

Eyeing both hunter and prey with nothing short of amusement, Vonn seemed to recline back with the patience and grace of a feline; with wont for nothing but see how this situation would turn out. ”You seem tense, my friend, no?”