Shimmering Sands kill well and often

The druid was unphased by Bijou's display. Such mockery only delighted him. She looked good standing properly. It was too bad that wicked grin never faded from her features. Such was life, he figured. Weren't they all imperfect in their own way? 

A smirk streaked across the yearling's muzzle. Knaven did not move his stance, but he drew his crown upward, peering at his sister with a fiendishly hot gaze. There was wickedness there. That look doesn't suit you, Jou, Knaven chided her in a near whine. The druid's frame rose in one breath and then fell, releasing the tension in the rogue. He put a few paces between himself and the troublesome duo. His gaze never quite left them, though.