This night, Emry hunted throughout the shadows that littered Moladion. He was done with social gatherings and pleasantries, not that he had given many to begin with. The black and silver phantom had never been a terribly social creature, save for when it suited him the most. If anything, he used social interaction as a way to gain the advantage, to get ahead and remain ahead. Such was the way of life, always staying ahead of the other paw. And this night would be like any other- he would not find the Black Prince, and he would not have his revenge. He did not, however, expect to come across what he ultimately did. Deep, molten gold irises watch the slim frame of a dancer in the waning daylight, her small, petite fourm reminiscent of Suomi and yet even more so. The vague reminder of the dark toned girl had a rather sarcastic smirk caressing his features, and a silent chuckle to ease through his mind. The best things often came in small packages. Or the worst.

But, gone is the boisterous, arrogant child who a few years prior would have waltzed up to her like he owned the place, and make her tell him what he wanted to know. Which could have very well been anything at all, seeing as back then Emry had no filter and very limited self-control. His time since has aged him considerably, though not nearly enough to rid him of his brash nature entirely. Though it seems that on this night, the large, dark wolf is particularly docile, the smirk fading from his features the longer he watches the girl. She’s extraordinary, truly, though he would never allow her the privilege to know such thoughts unless she were particularly impressive. But Emry had no high hopes- he never did, not when it came to most common folk. And yet still, he watched from his place in the shadows, content in his concealment until it was the sun had set completely. The wolf seemed adamant on her shadow, and his massive, square jaw gave a slight tilt in subtle curiosity- it was occasionally a wonder, to see another enjoy themselves so freely and without restraint. Almost refreshing, in a way.

When it was that night had finally come, Emry emerged from his place, a deep and masculine, welcome but not warm bark left his lips- after all, he had no interest in catching her off guard or startling her. If he had wanted such foolish things, he would not be Emry and Emry would not be him. When he was within a comfortable distance of about fifteen feet, his large paws brought him to a stop, bright golden irises flecked with their crimson lava intense on her, unashamed as he observed her all over. She was a tiny thing, but she was defined and she could move that much the dark phantom could see. He contemplated his words he could give her for a moment, settling on some that had been the furthest from his true mind. “And what sort of hunt might you favour, mmn?” It was a passing thought that had crossed his mind for but a moment, and yet he was curious. Emry almost wished to see her skill in action, and if the girl was lucky enough, she might even receive an invitation from the phantom himself. If she was lucky enough, of course.