Broken Boulder seething

He didn't know how it happened, but Zamael had this uncanny ability to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or more specifically, he just happened to be the wrong person in the wrong place, at the wrong fucking time. Any other being crossing Eris's path might have been fine--the devil himself could have waltzed out with no complaints--but it was Zamael who ended up by the Broken Boulder as she approached it, and god help him.

His ears perked curiously to see her. It was kind of like looking in a mirror; the same fiery eyes gazed back at him, at least. She'd grown into a beautiful young woman, and carried herself well; how long had it been since he'd seen her? He'd lost count of the seasons, honestly.

"Lanawyn," he greeted, dipping his muzzle to her. Then-- "Shit, sorry. 'Eris,' now, right?" Way to go, Zamael. Not like he really cared if she hated him, but he at least could have made a better first impression than that. "Long time no see," Zamael remarked, the ghost of a smile blooming over his muzzle.