Blackfoot Forest just get no blood on the dope

Kynareth’s laugh resonates through the cave, letting anything that is in there know it isn’t the only thing in there anymore. Get smile is brilliant agains the stark blackness of her lips and he peers at her knowingly. “The Saints.” He repeats gleefully back.

Then he’s scoffing in jest as she calls him akita. “Call me Kynareth, dear. Kynareth Deagon of the Abbey, Grandmaster of the Saints.” He introduces his extravagant name with a charming grin. “You?”