The Inaugural Harvest Ball

A ball... it wasn't exactly her thing. Dusk would fight you, talk circles around you, make you feel unworthy of her attention, but she definitely wouldn't dance with you. Bramble was so excited though... Perhaps she would just make an appearance to support her sister, then slip off into the shadows to do something that she found more interesting. She couldn't do anything too interesting with her neck and shoulder still healing from her battle with the rogue wolves, but, really... what wasn't more interesting than a dance party?

To hide the bandages, Dusk wore her thick, bison fur cloak. It was autumn and the wind was a bit chilly, so she wouldn't overheat. If she did, it would be simple enough to slip outside for a few minutes. The obsidian lady seated herself at the base of the stairs like some cloaked gargoyle. She sat tall and straight, fire opal eyes scanning the room and it's occupants. Injured or no, if any of them got out of hand, she would take care of them.

Dusk met Bramble's gaze and she gave her sister a confident smile. Just because this wasn't something that she would have chosen, that didn't mean that she didn't want her sister to be happy. Bramble had always been much more feminine than Dusk. If dancing and finery made her happy, then that's what she would have.

"Dusk Carpathius"