"I won't forget you! No, non ancora." Short, broad nose affectionately nuzzled a leafy package, his usual grin plastered on pale lips. Of course, the last time Drago had forgotten to bring his 'stash' with him, he'd met up with a feisty pale she-pup, and in that case, not having his cannabis proved to be a good thing. But still. A day was enough. After taking a tiny mouthful, the pale brute re-wrapped large leaves around the bundle, lifted it with gentle jaws, and set out for another day of exploring. This time, the brute's limbs brought him to the northern parts of Ala, where his eyes soon caught glance of a brilliant pale vein. Here is where Drago found himself, leafy bundle left by a rock as the brute sat and gazed at the white beauty. Perhaps he'd taken a bit more from his stash than he'd intended. Act. "Speak. Italian." Think.

Traveling this far north was not common for the warm bodied babe. She preferres the warmer regions of Alacritis, like the South and East, where she can bask in the suns warmth and allow herself to relax. On this day though, a rumor had been enough to convince her to travel this far north. She had heard tales of a large blemish in the earth, one where the rocky mountain side exploded into a beautiful chunk of marble. She did not know what marble was or what it looked like, so she was curious about it, and wished to experience the rarity for herself. She travels alone, as she has no companion and no true followers, but she is perfectly content with her solitude. Her volcanic gaze slides from left to right, always carefully examining her surroundings for danger or excitement. She reaches the mountain side without any dilemmas, and she comes to behold the massive marble in awe. It is beautiful, the way the marble streaks out like a vein across the mountain. Silently she walks along the cliff side, hanging as close as she can to the marble. She runs her body against its side, an erotic sensation coursing through her veins as she rubs against the frigid yet smooth rock. She turns a corner and almost stumbles straight into a man, whom is sitting and beholding the beauty for himself."speech"

In the back of his mind, he heard the light clicking of nails, but it had sounded far away, to him, at least. His eyes had closed, the wind sending goosebumps all along his skin with a cold bite - though the head of summer, reaching even the north, thankfully prevented his veins from freezing over. It wasn't until he'd heard the closest pawstep that Drago opened his golden-hued gaze. He found himself staring into bright red depths, the blackness around the red pits making his vision seem a little tunneled. Drago blinked before breaking out into a wide grin when his mind finally caught up with the situation. "Ciao! I apologize, I must have dozed off." He chuckled, amused at himself, and stood so that he could take a step back, to give the fiery wolf a bit more space. Always the one for conversation, Drago nodded his head at the she-wolf. "My name is Ignazio Jeovanni, but my friends call me Drago." Act. "Speak. Italian." Think.

She manages to stop just in time, her claws gripping the earth below them as she puts the halt on her forward movement. They stand inches from each other now, and she feels the desire to back up grip her conscious, but before she can do so the male moves back. She stands motionless, not a single emotion present in her features. Her expression is dull, lifeless, uncaring. He gives his name after saying an unnecessary apology, and she responds with her own title. "My name is Fiamette Sovari." She offers him, her expression still void of all emotion. She stares at him, her volcanic gaze examining him from head to toe. She had been running into a lot of strangers lately, and she wanted to remember them for future usage.

It was a curious sight, truly. The fae was totally dead-faced. Not a flicker of happiness or sadness danced through those fiery pits, nor made her facial muscles twitch. It was almost unnerving. But Drago was no stranger to these types of wolves - the ones who never revealed their inner thoughts. It didn't bother him. He could be outspoken enough for the both of them. "I heard of this place in passing. It's just as beautiful as I was told!" Golden hazel orbs drifted to the scenery, the brilliantly white rocks where a river once snaked through the land. The entire valley seemed to glow with a pale, beautifully pure light. He turned his attention back to the crimson female. "I imagine the same thing brought you here? I'm sorry if I'm wrong and just prying." He let out an open-mouthed laugh, showing his amusement at his own antics. Act. "Speak. Italian." Think.