Luneshale Pass at the serpent's behest

castel stays perched on his ridge, the smirk curling his lips deepening as the dog finally yells up at him. her bark is gruff, defensive, and thoroughly amusing. the way she stares him down, even with the sun glaring into her eyes, only adds to the ridiculousness of the scene.

not hungry, chica, he calls down, settling into a lazy sprawl on the ridge, one paw gesturing dismissively toward her kill. his amber eyes glint with mirth as he adds, and i don’t make it a habit to eat foxes. look too much like kin. sure you understand.