Redhawk Caldera I've been around for a long, long year

wind rakes through her fur; the falling snow threatens to thicken. and yet, the wraith is aware of the footfalls, the presence, before he makes himself known. she thinks for a moment it is the loner, back on some foolhardy notion of revenge, but the man that steps through the dizzying curtain of snow is a stranger. 

she straightens, tongue slipping over a similarly bloodied muzzle as she regards the man. his face is as a skull, deeply carved and accentuated with charcoal. the words he speaks, the buttery tone, do not belong to a man like him. she ponders him a moment, judging, before offering, "if you are bold enough." it is an invitation, a test; she is motionless as she regards him.