Sleeping Dragon “I’m the B̸̧̧͓̙͖̜̥̪̝͇͕̬͒͋̋̃́̋̈́͛͠Ad̷̡̨̢̧̟̯̠̜̬͇͇̼͍̓͐̓̌͗̍̽̒̄͐̆̈́̚͠͠ GuY...Duh.”

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It took someone else to be here and force him to react to see how lethargic the air had made him. Almost like he was dizzying and dancing but just not feelin it. Because once the voice bounced through the halls of this vehement place, the Sahirian thought it took atleast a moon and a half for his body to inhale to speak. “To be honest, it depends on who’s askin-“ he replied, each word growing dust on the last. His auds whirled his mind to the light- funny and great, he was heading just that way. So with the end of his scrabble of steps, he burst forth through the shower of shadows and thick fumes into the lightnened cavern that Earp was reclining in. The fresh air smashed into his lungs with unbelievable force and he inhales and exhaled like he had just finished running a marathon.

The ebony cousin was one he hadn’t seen since puptime, and he almost felt that creeping embarrassment at being seen so weak and dilusional come to swallow him whole. His head dipped in a greeting to mask the dip in self-consciousness. ”Nu manyta Nu run armijio svies nuyak syrius.”his shame brought him back to the ancient tongue to gain some sliver of dignity back. “What’s up man? Haven’t seen you in a hot minute- you get here alright?“ A lifted head and a slight grin to his former pup-partner-in-crime. Where Priest had been with the ideas and logic, Earp had been there to chew through them with such accuracy, one would think his ass was a surgeon. He could always map out a plot better than Priest. And always had a getaway plan that worked better than his.