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Draugr is by Haley!
The dark hybrid needed no warning about the trials of this path. She had guessed that, or known it, instinctively, as a child knows to see its mother's breast. Stilled, the hybrid did not move as her mother combed through the long locks of her silver-tipped hair, listening raptly as the woman spoke. She smiled, however faintly, as her mother spoke of warmth: what use was it when cold calculating was so much more efficient? She would readily freeze her insides to solid ice in order to attain the same powers as her mother.
She listened, straining, but no longer daring to speak: she did not wish for her meaningless prattle to interrupt her mother's words. She might ask questions later, but for now she was content to listen to the deep growl of her mother's voice and watch the shadows dance on the wall. Trinkets clung to the ceiling, bits of fur and bone and leather strung up together, and there were stacks and piles of things, a semi-orderly array of stuff. Draugr's own home was bare in comparison to this; she must make it more magical and less plain.
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