-This is not the note you are looking for... -

[Bhryn Astairre]

Or so says the feeling that comes from it. A simple, tea coloured note of aged paper with curling script and a strange rune burnt into the centre of it, faded just under the lettering. It reads:

Delighted to know, delighted to say
One womans life is another man's day.
One more way to spend forever in spite
Time for the dawn, rather than light.
Delighted to have you, delighted you go:
Letter from Angel, to Master Drago.

On closer inspection the casual passerby dismisses it, and moves on.

However, to Drago alone the rune appears to writhe... live... and...

 

[Dragona Nightsky]

As the aged dragonkin wanders by, his red scales dulled and lackluster, his eyes nothing but orbs of molten lava, he takes in the note, eyeing the rune.

"This doesn't smell...what?"

A brilliant flash and an angered roar of "Astairre!" are the only echoes of the drake and note.

 

[Bhryn Astairre]

The 'Astairre' in question makes her way back over and rolls it up with a dusty chuckle.

"That'll teach 'im..."