+Katanamasako
Meesa hissed something in Jel, her native tongue. It didn’t sound happy, whatever she said. The Argonian backed up several paces.
Scythe frowned “that’s hardly called for, vampire." he snorted at her lightly. “there’s children present." a tiny red fluff poked out from the larger dragons mane chattering in a language of it’s own.
Meesa seemed astonished when Scythe pinned her down as a vampire. Sure, she's been searching for a cure for three-hundred years...and at this point she really didn't care anymore, but seriously, is it that obvious? "Meesa no talk, Chold know."















