Sleeping Dragon what you need is an older guy,

sivaak does not answer immediately. her gaze remains fixed on that distant point. but the faint tightening of her jaw speaks that she had listened.

she dismisses the lingering specter of memory. they dead. some not. does it matter?

her crimson gaze slides to sobeille then, sharp and searching. you ask much, strange girl. why? you want scars of your own? the faintest curl of her lip suggests humor. it is one of few times she will spare it.