Snippet #1365516

The sound of soft purring came from behind Zmey, on the bed. Slowly, almost teasingly, Daen returned to the realm of sight, curled up and seemingly asleep in Zmey's bed. His neck was stained red with his own dried blood. For a moment he looked so small and fragile, like an innocent kid, all curled up inside of his tattered clothes. It was hard to notice when he was bouncing about, all smiles, but his body and his clothes seemed far too worn and ragged. He had clearly been through more than any young man should. Still, one only needed to look at the dried blood underneath his long, sharp nails to see that he had survived it all, and not always in the most innocent ways.