Dragoncrest Cliffs The Moon Calls To Me

The sickly, hardly there blue haze the fleeting light of the moon gives isn’t really enough to do much. So when he gazes around his surroundings he squints yellow eyes, struggling to see. He has the feeling of eyes on his back that can’t quite seem to escape him. His hackles rise and his brows furrow. His muzzle only wrinkles a little, prepared to bare impressive fangs to any type of threat that reveals itself to him.

“Who and what are you? Come out.” He calls out in the dim lighting. The lurking black wolf’s raven coat helps keep him well condensed in the darkness. Donovan would only be able to see him if he came out into the open. Even then, he would probably have some trouble seeing.