Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-31049256-20170919032125/@comment-28358106-20171017233648

(Scorn/Tirush)  Tirush's face splits into a savage, mirthless smile, showing her well-developed draconid canine teeth.

"I am not 'civilized', Dilüngr," she practically spits the word. "I do not pretend to be. I take the prey with my talons, and return home.  My heart races in the hunt, I eat the flesh, I eat the bones.  And yes, I drink the blood.  I live as my people have when they were first pulled from the Flame, before the Great One turned his eyes to the shadow and made your kind, who were too weak to do anything but lap the red lifeblood from our fallen prey."

Her smile fades, but only just. "And you are no fool.  But you are no great Lord, either, for a Dro'danthe does not hide behind pretty, empty words with no power.  You have no fire.  You have no kin.  You think you may taunt me.  But this I know!  Hear me, and remember this, which your kind have forgotten.  Your ashen heart leads you to that which you should fear the most."

She stands up from her perch. "The dark ones do not fear the light.  They never have.  They fear the Fire."

She throws her head back, the sound of her roar rattling the ground, her wings unfurling above her like great black clouds. She leaps to the air, shooting above the treetops and circling once, her roar resonating yet again. This time, it was no challenge. It was the call of coming wrath, the call that an enemy had been made and conflict was inevitable. It was a mark.

She wheels in the air, and heads back to the mansion.