The thing with the Auphe is that they were always ready for a hunt, it just got worse over the full moons and even worse than that over the new moons. Which left Cal, only half an Auphe, in a constant state of flux.
It was something he'd come to terms with over the past few years, but at the same time it was something he only barely had a handle on. He used a Gate to get there, the air itself just tearing, bruise-purple around the edges and wavering like heat-haze. He stepped down to the ground, letting the gate close behind him, sealing up like a zipper.
For a moment his eyes were read, like cabochons in the dark, but that quickly leeched away just into their usual Roma dark, "Hey."