[ The wound is more visible now that the battle is ended. It isn't blood that wells to the surface, but something glowing hot and molten, and it burns and sizzles where it touches the snow before hardening like rock and ash. Wrathion grumbles, a noise far more intimidating in this form than his other. ]
Of course. Other than a sour taste in my mouth from that creature.
[ He snorts, nostrils flaring as his gaze falls to the wound the elf now bears. ]
See to your own injuries, Inquisitor. I will see if we have any other unwelcome guests to see to in your new Keep.
no subject
Of course. Other than a sour taste in my mouth from that creature.
[ He snorts, nostrils flaring as his gaze falls to the wound the elf now bears. ]
See to your own injuries, Inquisitor. I will see if we have any other unwelcome guests to see to in your new Keep.