Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-26288702-20180310221203/@comment-30014014-20180503042322

The young man had just witness the wyvern take flight when he over the man in metal encasing speak to him directly. His attention devired on his charred hands, a bit of a surprise overtook him on hearing the man call his name.

Usually deaf to such a call due to the man's grouping, being somewhat astray from the dragon and undeads makes Prad less nervous at the prospect of walking near the man. Quickly fastening his gray silk, his footing accelerates, uttering no word, shuffling no noise in his pace. The scarf he bear blending to the surrounding dullness of the area, his presence is somewhat hindered.

He ends up a mere few feet from Praetor, one of his hands massing the other. His eyes constantly gazing part from two separate directions. FInally, a word loose from the man "Sorry, it's hard to walk unhindered when you're as currently useless as I am..."