[h1][b][color=#dfc3a6]Luna Emeraltide[/color][/b][/h1]

"I must admit," Luna began, "The state of this city has me worried of the rest of the lands. If it's in this terrible a shape, what remains of the other castles, the cathedrals? Perhaps I'm being impatient. I feel as though we'll know soon enough," she said, half-musing to herself. She continued, making idle talk,

"Do any of you recall what you'd been doing before going under -before you awoke in the coffin? Without a familiar, I'm finding it difficult to guess how long I'd been in there." Stopping at the edge of the ruined bridge, Luna peered over the side. Dilapidated, unmaintained, filthy -Alavaris was well past its prime, long descended into obscurity and hauntedness that cried out in her mind as the first sign of an [i]exceptionally[/i] long sleep. Whosoever remained of the past, besides themselves, surely had long since shifted and evolved into something unrecognizable. Besides feeding herself, acclimating to the new world already began to exhaust her spirits.

Finding a place to live was foremost on her mind, aside from understanding Ichor's luring call.

Luna extended a hand to follow in Ilena's suit, grabbing onto the spindly leg of another flying insect. From beneath her lightly-transparent veil, she smiled back at Dragan.

"How many wings would Dragan take?" she giggled, "Do we actually have enough?"