Enter: An Innocent Young Man | Intro | Open

The young brunette had spent her morning studying the tome in her lap; sitting atop the throne in the center of what was now her guildhall. It was a stone seat, nothing too luxurious except well... the stone basilisk statue which intertwining beside the high seat. The front entry of the guild welcomed its members into the quarters almost like a castle, a long carpet, worn out and dust riddled, stretched from the doors to Famines seat. The place wasn’t that lively in its appearance, chilly, dark, dusty. The place was rather old fashioned and not something you could think to be to proud of in its state but it was well, their home.

And the home was somewhat quiet, organized: The way Famine liked it… disturbance free
And in that instance the polar breeze of Mt. Hakobe welcomed itself into the guildhall, harshly brush  the shadow mages skin. Famine had grown familiar with the sudden chill which often signaled the whooshing open of the chamber doors. Unshifting from the cross-legged stance she sat Famine shifted her head in the direction of the disturbance, Flurries of snow spun in around a shape; a boy who’s dark hair and gleaming eyes contrasted greatly against the white wasteland behind him.

Her Eyebrow raised, and her gaze narrowed with the same icy harshness of the polar mountain outside. As if to inquire his presence. If He was a threat Famine would strike him down in a moment.

Eyes widened more or less out of confusion than concern for the poor, poor boy. Famine uncurled from her seated position, the balls of her feet touching to the ground with the delicacy of stepping on an eggshell. Sapphire irises remained locked onto the boys form as he continuously wavered in personas. Interesting in deed but would this perk make this …Arata more of a liability then asset. The Fang had no tolerance for the weak. Something Famine had grown to know and enforce strong and even cruely. With silent footfalls Famine moved towards the newcomer, her treasured tome tucked beneath her arm.

“He’s unstable.” Famine hissed out to no one in particular, though maybe to Annora for when she reached the woman’s side her paces stopped. Her gaze never left him even after he seemed to reclaim his sane but insane composure. “Arata, despite your magic capabilities that makes you a weakness.” Famine huffed, referring to the massive instability he showed just by stepping inside. Allow you into our ranks or… “Until the dark presence  hanging over your mind is no longer resisted I can’t allow you into our ranks.” a tone cold as the ice outside the doors. “Or, to even leave here alive.”