skirting past the line of trees a man in his mid 20's scruff on his chin and in thread bare clothing. he is crouched low and doing what could pass for a dogtrot's speed. from his mouth a cigarette trails a line of smoke behind him but no residue or smell comes from the smoke. hearing the howl he stopped turning to face her over the undergrowth of the treeline. moving closer he waved.
ayven moved to infront of lea " why heelloooo" (said in a mocking snobby british accent )
ayven extends a hand " ayven. Bone gnawer cliath judge of the balanced moon























































































































































































































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