Overture Downs winds of east

"saatsine eat fresh meat each day," sun eater grunted, his remaining eye offering an contemplative trace to her more expressive features. "you come for me, morwenna?" he asked, almost forming the words in lanzadoii.

while his features did not shift from closed thoughtfulness, sun eater knew it was his responsibility to hold in suspicion her uttered intent to return.

a fierce wind rose then, gusting through the trees, lifting his dark hackles into a line of silhouetted knifework.