Summer had finally passed and in such a hurry! The memory of the previous winter still hangs over Enderly. He is not overly fond of the snow and Moladion seems to get quite a bit of it, in his opinion, so he hopes that fall will linger for a while. It feels as if much time has passed since Enderly has seen another soul. He craves the attention of others but even more than their attention he wants their secrets. There is so much that can be done with a few well-spoken secrets - much chaos that can ensue from a slip of the tongue. Enderly is not the type to sit passive for long. His mind grows weary of the silence of night; he does not hunger for it like some. Nor does his heart long for another although his thoughts tend to stray towards Naamah and Nakki, two of his favorite darlings if only because they are quite, what is the word, seductive? Their secrets, that is. And manners. Nakki holds a special little spot in his mind. Nothing like being attacked by a crazed demon, a beautiful crazed demon, to get the mind and instincts pumping. Oh but that was so long ago and he was lonely this night.

His sleek black figure lays buried in the dying grass of Ruieze fields beneath the starlight. The beauty, so cold and distant, is nothing to his silver eyes for what do stars hold? Legends, yes, but nothing real. Nothing concrete and as delicious as secrets and lies. The sounds of the night are interrupted by the shuffling of paws through the dried grass and his ears prick as he peers through the moonlight in search of his visitor.

She is lovely, this creature of moonlight and fire, and smells foreign. At least, he thinks, she will not be assaulted upon her initial visit to this land as he was only a few seasons ago. Ah, but it led to some interesting things. Enderly stands, ready to glide towards Gvgeyu'i, when he sees the other female appear. She is young too but already filling out in the best of ways. Cersei is taller than Enderly but he outweighs her; still, he is sleek and his raven fur glistens and lays perfect across his well-honed body. The silver hairs around his muzzle glimmer beneath moonlight's touch as he ambles towards them quietly, listening to the start of the conversation. A sly smile spreads across his muzzle. He moves around to Cersei's side although he is a good few feet away so as not to startle her. She smells of something familiar and yet not - either Glorall, Spirane, or Tavoria. He has not been to any of those kingdoms yet.

"Who says she is wandering by herself?"