Nightfall

He was resting upon a small cliffside etched within a sloping side of the mountain, his black mane falling over obsidian-black eyes. His triangular ears were, as usual, held back against his head, his black muzzle lifted towards the starry skies above. He was but a lone pendragon, one that valued his time alone more than he should. Cast across his fur, which was shades of blue, black and white, was a pale, orange glow, courtesy of the flame upon the tip of his tail, smouldering gently in the shadows. The dark red frill on his tail bore nicks in the leather, and on his snout was a large gash; he had once been in a fierce battle.

Rakuk sighed and lowered himself to the ground, his legs buckling beneath him. He rested his chin upon both white forepaws, the claws fully retracted, his large wings held lax against his sides. He was lost in thought, which was well guarded from those who had the ability to read minds.

((Time: 42, Tessera, 81378, 12 PM))

 

Rakuk was silent, as usual; rarely did he tend to speak. His triangular ears flicked abrubtly, however, at a sound nearby, but he paid no further heed to it. Perhaps it had been the wind, or a lizard among the rocks, so he merely looked back across the land far below him, his whiplike tail swinging round to lay by his side, the small flame flickering near his face.

 

Once again, his ears flicked sharply as he heard something -- or someone -- approaching. He lifted his head, hisblack mane flickering out behind him. His damp, black nose twitched as he scented at the air, a slight, almost invisible frown on his black, doglike muzzle. He scanned his surroundings, looking for the source, but could not conclude where the scent was coming from; the presence of the flame so close to his face was interfering.

 

His obsidian-black eyes flickered as he swung his head towards her, but his muzzle revealed no emotion. One ear pricked up, but only momentarily, and after a hesitant moment, he nodded. "Yes...but don't get too close," he answered. His voice was unusually quiet, as if he were trying to hide it along with the rest of him.

 

Rakuk returned his gaze towards the land below, but it was hard to tell if he was actually looking at it or not. His eyes were entirely black; he could have been watching her, or he could have been watching the fire on his tail, opposite of her. After a moment, though, he noticed that she seemed a bit cold, so he swung round his tail, the flame flickering in the wind, and placed it between them. Perhaps the small flame would help warm her up.

 

Rakuk simply nodded, and rested his muzzle back upon his forepaws. His mane fell back over his eyes, but was soon swept back out by a gust of icy-cold mountain wind. He didn't flinch in the slightest, but his feathers ruffled slightly; it seemed to remind him about something, however, and he sat up, pushing himself off the ground.

 

"Feathers," he said gruffly. He unfurled one wing, stretching the striped primaries to his muzzle so he could preen through them. They were ruffled and out of order, and a few of them were broken; he had to preen them to straighten them back out and pluck out the broken ones.

 

He straightened out a primary feather, using two of his sharpest canine teeth. Afterwards, he lowered his muzzle in what could have been a bow. "Pleased to meet you, Thi," he answered. "I am Rakuk."

 

He pulled a loose feather from his wing, one of the small, broken ones. When he'd finished preening, he furled his wings once more, brushing a few feathers off the cliff and watching them flutter down towards the ground far below.