Dragoncrest Cliffs immortal,

praimfaya allows a small lift of her brows, a silent acknowledgement to his observation. he wasn't wrong ...but she can't help but wonder if she did not bear the kill marks from her conclave ...would he think the same? would she appear as draconian as she truly was or like a pretty, lithe girl easy to prey upon? praimfaya almost snorts at that. she doesn't really know what she looks like — warped reflections in ponds hardly counted as a mirror — but she doubts however it is it isn't pretty or lithe.

i always assume everyone can fight. praimfaya admits with a lofty shrug of her shoulders, paws sweeping the ground as she feigns a lunge, recoiling back. she paces a few seconds: left and right before she lunges for real on impulse, teeth aiming for his shoulder.

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