[Dracula's accented rumble sounds a little growlier and snufflier than usual, but it is decidedly him.]
Armand? Petronilla? Drake? Persephone? Biff? Are you well?
[Deckside howling]
OOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!
[Canid translation of deckside howling]
HELLLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!
[Spam for deck]
[Dracula is padding back and forth in
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You're a bird! But you're well, that is good.
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...that crest is fabulous.
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I'm on the Deck currently. I keep hoping that I can covince someone to let me into the CES.
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Who the hell gave a lion a knife?
He spots the wolf and tips his head to embed the knife in the wood of the deck so he can speak.]
Hi.
[Then the lion goes right back to picking up the knife. Yes.]
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[His gaze turns to the door.] Perhaps it is time to force our way. I refuse to have my right to hunt curtailed because some whining sheep got himself lost in there. Can these doors be broken?
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The lion glances back to the other predator a moment, then noses the door open and slips inside.]
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[For a moment he thinks of warning Arthas not to eat mutton. But then he remembers what a stubborn, argumentative prick that sheep was. And besides, Arthas would probably ignore him. And what a great irony if that sheep did become prey of a lion for not trusting a wolf?]
Good hunting.
[He trots inside, nose to the air.]
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