Vixenscratch

“Ready to go home, Jeevi?” The dark blue fox rose from where he had been curled up under a desk when he heard his name, stretching and yawning toothily before sticking his muzzle through the strap of a bag that had been leaned against the leg of that same desk and shrugging it down his more »

They were all gathered in the small steakhouse booth, squeezed in to make sure they’d all fit. There were half-wyvern and wyverns Linnéa and Tai!en, both there for their regenerative capabilities, faerie-draconian werefox and minor mage Liiz’vocal Quall, the surprisingly friendly nightmare nicknamed “Rust” by her colleagues, beastkin Taver with a sleepy barn owl soulbrother more »