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Makara · 5 hours ago

Kyoko

The scent of blood pervaded the morning air.

He smelled it on the breeze when he woke, tainted by the saline stench of the sea.

His nose would scrunch.

Low tide and blood made for a bad combination.

The dragon would slither from his den, stretching his limbs as he felt the weak warmth of the autumnal sun on his back. And after a moment, he would move toward the central pack lands, following the trail of the hunt that drifted on the breeze. (He was getting used to this canine nose, at least.)

It did not take long for him to find her: a large, dark-brown female standing over the weight of her kill.

Makara could only hope that this female belonged here.

Here, in the Dynasty.

There was ... a gentle trace of Izumi in the air, at least.

Halló , stranger, Makara would greet, body posture relaxed and ears pressed forward. His tail waved gently behind him, and he held the posture of a wolf who was relaxed and yet ... one would know he assumed a modest place of power within this pack.

That is a fine kill, he'd continue with a smile, eyes drifting between her and the beast at her paws. You are of Fujiwara, yes?

Welcome Back!

Greetings Stranger!

Queen's Rest

the water dragon