Silhouettes Of Ember

Past midnight, Devon Leriel Verlice gazes out a moonlit window, hands were still on steering wheel as he closes his eyes venting his anger. "Mitescere! Mitescere, Devon.." he muttered to himself. But, in just a flash, a streak of icy white strand starts to show on his black hair. A shade of ash swiftly painted his Persian green Verlice eyes. Drel did a check in the rearview mirror. "Damn..." Alterations - not his style. At least there were no hungry-looking bluish-green veins on his neck and jaw. Drel slammed the wheel with his fist. His head was pounding. Still, in his mind darted from one event to another, over what had happened this evening, how he almost died, how he had landed on this spot... He was a hellhound, one of the legendary Verlice, shape-shifters, meant to run the wild hunt. Only gods and the unified council were a match for his kind - not Evotis, not humans. Still, the Evotis were known for their greediness and cunning, characters that had obviously been at play here. They caught him off guard. He's sure there's a conspiracy, but not sure with whom. He wouldn't have fallen so quickly otherwise. But the conspiracy wasn't all of it. His instincts had been dulled too. Even after getting shot, he should have been able to defeat most of them. And he wasn't dazed. One shot. He could've rescued Vez. No, the negotiation was a setup, a trap. Drel realized that now. What he didn't know yet was if it was designed with only him in mind, or if he was just another hapless victim. Hapless. Not how Drel was used of thinking of himself. It incited his anger all the more. "Vez..." But what's more is the woman, Vyn Zea Aubyn, plays an important role to his devastation that he could ever know.. _______________ @twelveclaws ¹Mitescere (Latin) -Calm Down