The hybrid continued to grumble and mutter under her breath, tail twitching back and forth as she tilted her head first one way and then the other. Her constant rumble of cursing switched to draconic at some point, and while it was a harsher language it seemed to suit her voice a bit better than Common.

Tilting her head first one way and then the other, Drache eventually began to prod the stones that were raised up, hoping that they were just loose. She was no expert on traps, as evidenced by a few scars on her body. Her approach was basically "spring it before it springs me" if she could find something.

Drache didn't have the same sense of impending doom that Raffey did, but she was watching him, firstly out of simple attraction but now more because he had turned out to be trustworthy and capable so far. [color=ed1c24]"Your blood is up. What do you smell?"[/color] She wasn't asking literally. She followed his eyes to the portal and the floating orb shapes.