[ Wrathion would, of course, never barge into a conversation. He has manners. He is, however, watching warily -- eyes flicking between Caitlyn, Miang-Si, and the direction he thinks the ritual is.
Miang-Si, meanwhile, is still unimpressed. Who are they? Why are they here? They were not invited, she is sure. Her manner is cold, tense, caught out for being here at all.
Wrathion, who has some patience but not much, feels his nerves beginning to thin. ]
The time...
[ Under his breath, a reminder. This is a slow approach. They need to speed this up, soon. ]
no subject
Miang-Si, meanwhile, is still unimpressed. Who are they? Why are they here? They were not invited, she is sure. Her manner is cold, tense, caught out for being here at all.
Wrathion, who has some patience but not much, feels his nerves beginning to thin. ]
The time...
[ Under his breath, a reminder. This is a slow approach. They need to speed this up, soon. ]