Haunted Wood Stop Asking me Questions, I hate to see you cry

serem. nightwalkers general. he records it in his mind. she was blunt like a sawn-off shotgun was. straight to the point like a bullet was. he appreciates it.
fighting. basic healing. think of me as a...war medic. he flashes a smile with overexposed teeth. it's dim here, under all these branches and the mist— she looks like a pair of cheshire golden eyes, the boundary between wolf and shadow fading.