Porcupine Ridge all you have is your fire

he examined her, from slender chin to elegant tailtip, and watched with a hunter's fascination as his prey's awareness seemed to suddenly redouble; until fel green eyes picked out his phantom form among a lineup of similar shadows. her voice - thick and enveloping - brought a tentative sway of his lank banner, and he inclined his muzzle to her in such a succinct bow it was nearly imperceptible. "my lady," the warhound greeted her, pausing before he dared come nearer; gliding forward, with dark robes spilling. aloof and yet interested, like the reaper pausing to give some gilded lifeform a closer glance.

he held back quietly at first, giving her ample room to feel safe from him, before meeting her gaze directly. "do you wish to be alone?" he asked reservedly; the loaded question of an enigmatic serpent.