Make me burn

Though his posture was not necessarily threatening, he wasn't the most comfortable beast to be near. His face was scarred and tattered; it was hard not to stare at his single good eye, for the other was mangled and appeared to be useless. Thankfully, he made no move to threaten her - or even to look like he could be threatening. Instead, his head remained lowered, and she would return the favor, keeping her muzzle tipped toward the ground. A single tattered ear flicked, swiveling toward him as he spoke a reply.

Epiphron moved quietly forward, closing the distance between them slightly. The sound of the rustling grass beneath her paws suddenly seemed startlingly loud, and she paused mid-step. "Yes, I do," she answered him tentatively. He, too, seemed vaguely familiar to her, in a way she couldn't quite place. "I live nearby. My name is Epiphron." Once, she'd worn her last name proudly - a badge of honor and protection, but now it seemed more of an afterthought. Not something she necessarily hid, but not something she flaunted either. "What about you, Quelt?"