Dragoncrest Cliffs armadillo cloak

Ever since Chacal had started to show, Svalinn began wagoning around a metric shit ton of confidence wherever he went. He was not so bigheaded to not pay proper deference to his superiors, and he most certainly did not smile at others, even in jest, but there was practically nothing that could level his tail or make him seem less proud of the life growing inside the gilded Tanzanite.

He strutted through Sapphique now, a limp-bodied stoat in tow and a drizzle of rain on the horizon.