Blood Moon Date Night

Scylla arrived in much the same way that a banshee might appear over a moor, silent and swift with graceful strides that left no trace of her in her wake. Saracyn was almost startled by her sudden appearance had he not been expecting her to show up. But before they could begin their evening together and before he could even utter a word of apology for his behavior to her, she was issuing her own apology; their plans would have to be postponed. Sara's brow furrowed, head taking the typical confused canine tilt as he listened to her. There was a problem? What sort of problem? With his jaws occupied by the bottle of wine he was unable to ask any follow up questions, so as the petite fae slid off into the darkness, all the dire brute could do was follow behind. Surely wherever she was taking him would shed some light on his confusion in due time.

Sure enough, at the far border of the Rock Garden sat four strange brutes—vagabonds and trespassers. Cerulean eyes leered with sharp aggression out at the four strangers, a growl barely suppressed in his throat. How dare they set foot on his family's lands! Scylla whispered in his ear, sweet and deadly as she promised a plan to deal with these poachers. Saracyn was, of course, all ears. Setting the bottle of wine down beside a rock, the massive brute slid down to his belly and into the shadows to help conceal his presence. Scylla was far more stealthily inclined than he was. "What's your plan?" he whispered back in husky tones. Whatever she was concocting in her wicked mind, it surely was better than his idea of shock and awe and carnage.

"Saracyn Mendacium"