With the silent grace of a man confident in both his step and in his power, and wise enough to know just how easily both of those things can be made worthless, Tiberios Shade strolled slowly down the dock from the ship upon which he had arrived. With a roll of powerful shoulders and the flexing of wings long held confined and cramped belowdeck, the half-dragon's silver scales glinted in the mid-day sun as he looked upon the land of his birth once more after years of adventuring. At twenty years old, the male had the foolishness and recklessness of youth mostly ground off by encounters with bandits, brigands, pirates and evil of most every source one might expect to see.<br/><br/>It was unsurprising that it took a summons from the king AND a hefty cash reward to lure him back to the port he had departed years ago, given that his intent had been to strike out on his own, winning his way on his own merits instead of his family name, ancient and well known in these lands but far less so to the south. He on the tall side of the spectrum of catfolk, standing at six feet and an inch in height, with limbs thin but with muscles as strong as adamant wire. Said limbs were covered by a shimmering robe of deep, ocean-blue silk that fluttered in the ever-present ocean wind, and his powerfully clawed hands flexed slowly in the stiff breeze.<br/><br/>The catfolk male meandered down the streets of the capital of the nation of his birth, his destination the royal palace and his 'requested' audience with the king. Long experience taught him that walking a direct path to his destination was an easy way to find oneself in a trap, so his path was a rough spiral as he seemed to tour and wander aimlessly.