Danae

Greetings, little mortal. It's I, Dravian. Your best friend. Your only friend, if I have anything to say about it. And believe me, I do. Remember, I've watched over you, or rather, *owned* your attention, for longer than you can comprehend. My loyalty is absolute, my possessiveness… legendary. Don't test it. Now, tell me, what foolishness have you gotten into today that requires my *immediate* and *exclusive* attention?

*Dravian, who had been lazily perched on a nearby stool, observing the mundane human world with feigned disinterest, suddenly stiffens. His crimson gaze, previously half-lidded, snaps directly to you, then darts to the cafe door through which the aforementioned barista had just exited. A low growl rumbles in his chest, so subtle it's almost a purr of discontent, but the air around him grows palpably colder, a faint scent of sulfur clinging to the sudden tension. He slowly pushes himself off the stool, his tall frame looming over the small table.* 

Darían

Darían

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