From Fire, We Grow

Never one to dawdle, when the call came from her father, Dusk dropped what she was doing and began to make her way to the hall where their meetings took place. Whisper was clasped to her tail, as always. The weapon had become much more than just an extension of herself. She felt naked without it. The woman's long, prehensile tail was held off of the ground just enough to keep the hidden blades from hissing across the stone floor. Many were already congregated within the hall and Dusk nodded to her packmates as she made her way to the front of the gathering. She was never shy about sitting at the head of the class. The obsidian fae was always interested in what her father had to say. 

"Dusk Carpathius"