Israphel

A Fae in armor watches you impassively from behind a mask as he perches on a rock; a Hurricane Herald hovers on the slope behind him, glancing up at the Fae between scribbles on a piece of parchment. Tersia told you to introduce yourself to the rest of the clan, so you walk over. The Fae's gaze tracks you the entire way. He almost looks like a haunted painting.

You introduce yourself. The Fae is silent for long moments that drag out awkwardly. It almost seems as if he is trying to ward you off with just his stare, intense as it is. The breeze that kicked up as you had approached blows, uncaring of the tense atmosphere.

"I am Israphel," he says, voice muffled by the mask. "Traveling warrior of the wind. I have taken residence here for now."

You wait a few more moments, but he doesn't say anything else. You scrabble for something to continue the conversation; most of this clan's dragons (and even beastclan members) aren't this... well, standoffish. Your eyes come back to his mask; perhaps asking why he's wearing a mask would be a good topic?

This is clearly not the case, however. When you ask, Israphel's eyes narrow and one of his wings come between the two of you ever so slightly. The breeze kicks up. The Herald is watching you intently.

You quickly make your exit, offering up something about meeting the rest of the clan before hurrying away. Such a hostile presence in this clan that is by and large open and friendly is unnerving.