Ravensblood Forest torture saints with a single glance

Unafraid of the potential ferocity this woman holds, he comes a few steps closer. His body language casual, almost uninterested. Yet his gaze says differently. His eyes never leaver her. By the way he looks to her wounds surely she could see the voiceless question within golden irises.

He offers his usual smile. This one isn’t malicious or devious, rather it’s charming and casual. “Call me Donovan.” He offers his name to this stranger, single white brow and expectant look back says that he expects her to give her own then.

“What happened to you? I can see you limping from half a mile off.” The words are merely an observation. His undying curiosity doesn’t let him not ask questions. Hopefully this shewolf doesn’t mind.