Stian stopped for a second and admired the wings for a lingering second. The heavy black framed a vibrant red set against the alabaster white. He could only judge that from her face but he could imagine the skin underneath was only paler. It seemed as if only a master smith could produce these colors. The wings themselves looked as frail as spun glass but had the strength to carry a body to the heavens. Truly masterful... Stian began to let his mouth gape a bit before he shook his head and cleared his thoughts. “Showing off a little bit?” Stian said as he turned on his heel and started towards the an older area of town. The buildings there were slightly darker than those in other areas. Many bore scorch marks and large slashes in stone, a tribute to the battles seen here. Dojoville has seen countless sieges and enough battles to destroy a thousand races. It was harrowing to think of the blood spilled here