He chuckles, turning his back to the glowing warmth, a firm smirk on his dark lips. Irisaen comes crawling out of his mane to curl tightly around his left ear, flicking her tongue at the stranger woman. Her iridescent scales glittering in the roaring firelight. Chem’s glassy teal eyes slide back, the eye visible to her as they stand side by side uncovered by his thick forelock. They’re head to foot, he’s respectfully far but close enough for a little conversation.
“Oh, no one major.” He refers to himself, laughing low as he flicks his tail. The heat falls over his speckled back like a blanket in the frigid temperatures. He won’t miss the cold when he goes, but he will miss the Isle in general; and the feeling of brotherhood. Nothing replaces that.
“And how is Sylva doing these days?” he quirks his head toward her, bending his closest ear back.
@[Sabra]
“Oh, no one major.” He refers to himself, laughing low as he flicks his tail. The heat falls over his speckled back like a blanket in the frigid temperatures. He won’t miss the cold when he goes, but he will miss the Isle in general; and the feeling of brotherhood. Nothing replaces that.
“And how is Sylva doing these days?” he quirks his head toward her, bending his closest ear back.
@[Sabra]