<span style='color:red'>Day : 19th Month : Tria (Summer) Year : Year 81376</span> Vixen Warjhoa, seer of Ramath Lehi. She can see what other pendragons cannot, the balance of the world, the future of everyone. It is a great gift, is it not? The gift to know when you will die, when you will be re-born, to know...everything. She had been around for a very long time, 32 years. She had helped many, but still no one really cared. She lifted her head high, chanting the ancient words of Ramathian. Her prayer lasted for a few minutes, above the altar of the sun temple. Her long black hair shined in the sun, her light blue fur as well. She looked like a god, a figure who would be remembered one day for something great. She sighed, lifting her hand over her forehead, feeling the mutation. She had longed to be normal, for this cursed eye to be gone. Maybe then people would respect her more and not call her a freak. She closed her eyes, taking in the suns warmth. It was a beautiful day. Footsteps came behind her, already she knew who it was. "Hello, how may I serve you?".
<span style='font-family:Times'> bic| Solumn pendragon sat, lavender hue vivid in the mid-day sunlight. Lavender hair swayed in the brisk summer breeze, revealing lime green highlights. Green trimmed claws were perfectly retracted, eye lids were gentley shut; maw scented the aroma of a new day. Wings were tucked silently behind back flesh; perchd upon her neck was a golden amulet, placed in the center was a brilliant green-and-purple swirled jewel.</span>
Day : 19th Month : Tria (Summer) Year : Year 81376, Sangre rested her weight on the door way. Just watching with her jade green eyes the two others in the room. Not really interested in the at all. She was more deep in thought about her journey and where it had taken her. This was a beautiful place and she would not of known anything about it if she had not left the seclusion and safety of her tribe. A high pitch shriek sounded from atop the door way. It's owner a great beautiful blood red hued hawk. At this sound Sangre glimpsed up at the creature. Slowly holding her leather gloved hand out. It wasn't even mere minutes before the hawk descended and was ruffling his feathers while it perched on his master's hand. Running a thin finger down the front of the bird, she moved her ebony body toward a alter. Even if she had a large quantity of disrespect, she had none for the gods and goddesses. She would give her prayers to her's; Penn Renn and Tejas. Kneeling her braided locks of jet fell like a certain over her face as she too said her words.
