[h3][color=moccasin]Ethra[/color][/h3]
[hr]
Ethra knew what warlocks looked like from illustrations in books she’d read in the past. This man standing before her was, without a doubt, [i]not[/i] a warlock. He was the Eaten, which she knew rather little about. And though she’d rather have read on the topic, she couldn’t bring herself to being dismissive of a live example.

He was wrapped in bandages, all around his head and arms, and she assumed elsewhere on his person as well. Ethra's eyes let her see just past Griffin's sunglasses, at the empty spaces behind the tinted lenses. Very peculiar, to her.

“I am Ethra.” The bagoyép replied, raising a hand from within her ivory cloak to shake the Eaten's. Griffin himself looked just the slightest bit surprised at the arm’s reveal, most likely having assumed Ethra simply possessed the anatomy of a normal owl.

Which was fair.

“So…” Ethra continued, “We’re going to be living together.”