Bearclaw Valley moreau's golem

his feral countenance spread into a smile that quickened mona's heartbeat despite herself; she glowed around her grasp upon the rabbit, murkwater eyes brightening until the emerald swam up from their depths. setting down her catch, mona let out a breath and her crimson plume swayed at her heels. the sound of her name within his tones held a different meaning, perhaps; it was not often that men murmured the mayfair's title.
notably flustered, the little red scout rolled her shoulders and presented stigmata with a shy smile. "let's put it in a cache near indra's den," she suggested. her friend would be in need of the sustenance. but while her intentions were clear, indra never far from her mind, the expression in the man's face was rather the forefront of her focus in this moment.