quoth the raven

Assuming Erebus is already in Haldis, for Nyra :)

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The dark creature crept through, observing the tall trees, the slightly warmer air making it hard for the snow to stick like it did in the Everfrost.

He could smell the remnants of other wolves, both fresh and old. This land, whole full of his species, seemed to not even know of his family. Not even whispers.
It was strange.

What trick was the moon playing on him? Was this a punishment or a reward?

He couldn't tell.

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Nyra hadn't traveled this far from the desert in a while; Not since she practically abandoned her daughter in Highvalley.
She briefly wondered how Sovereign was doing...the consideration was shaken from her massive head, a quake that rippled through her towering, hard-musculed body as she prowled close to the Tundra, the outskirts of it it seemed...
The air was certainly getting much colder as she went through.

The Warqueen had half a mind to turn back for Warcrest now, but as she was mulling the option over, she spotted a dark-colored male also prowling the area.
His gait was somewhat akin to her own, in her observation - predatory.
However, the Queen wasn't deterred, more so mildly intrigued...
So, she watched him for a moment, seeing what he would do. She wouldn't make any effort to hide or oppositely, make herself known. 
Her stance was one of a wolf with high status- tail raised high over the hips, ears angled forward, head tall, which would aid the aura she emitted in overpowering waves - authority, dominance, power, and a currently-underlying threat.

Much akin to a seemingly non-venomous snake coiled in grass. 

One wrong move could mean certain death.
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Her large white glare blotted the sun. His eyes raised from the depths of the trees, of the forest, and it's wicked branches.

She was ethereal, looking at him from on high. Chest poised and proud. Almost beautiful, like finding a strong elk after a long hungry hunt.
White fur reflecting, catching the wind in various places. Yellow eyes staring down.

For a moment he pondered his ideal. Growing up, the most he saw of white wolves were either dead or enslaved. He considered the thought, if it was a value he would continue.

He would.

The raven's nose upturned, teeth baring. The distinct glare of disgust on his fiery eyes.
He could only remember what he was taught.

"Foul creature." He muttered, mostly to himself, as if to document the memory of seeing a child of the sun so proud. Not after what they did.
The thought of having any pride as a pale beast tormented his stomach and heart, if he were so white he would surely die. How wretched it would be.

For now, he wished it would just go away. Even in the hands of Haldis, he considered himself far too unprepared for battle. Or perhaps far too unpracticed.

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She saw the disgust in his eyes, the baring of his teeth.
Her hackles razored and her fiery gaze sharpened along with the bared-teeth guttural, loud growl she emitted in response to his own display.
Words left his mouth, ones she couldn't quite hear from her place above the ground.
It was also clear he wanted her to go away, but Nyra wasn't exactly in the mood to give him what he wanted.
He was not one of hers, nor was he an ally of any sort, clearly.
Therefore, she did not give a shit.
"If you have something to say to me, say it loud enough to face the consequences." She rumbled at Erebus, easily descending the rocks to be on level ground with him.
If this were an action anime or an action comic, the ground would have shook under her paws as she hit the ground to hint at her immense power, like in Dragon Ball or something of the sort.

But this was not such a world, and so she had no power of that kind. No supernatural or godly abilities.
Thus, nothing nearly as dramatic as that would occur.
Her posture returned to its proud and dominant display.
However she didn't move closer beyond her descent of the rocks, instead staring him down with an unwavering gaze.

Below the surface of what she presented, the viper was prepared to strike.
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Nyra only smiled condescendingly at him as he blithered in his rage. The red night? She knew nothing about it, and didn't give a shit about it.
"Aww, poor puppy." She cooed, "Too stupid to continue? Those big words must've exhausted your small brain." She gave a mock pouting face as she continued to drive it home, deeper, deeper. 

And then the idiot turned his sight away from her.

Big mistake.

Silently, all too silently as every trained killer does, she came up on him from behind, rushed him. Fangs sought the tender flesh of his ankle where she would make sure to tear, rend, rip and break his fucking leg into an unusable mess.

Should the brazen little shit turn on her then, she would be ready, and would seek to rip his face off, to blind his eyes with his own blood if not altogether.
She was aiming to beat him to death's doorstep to prove a point.

And kill him or enslave him, if he didn't surrender to her then. 

The viper strikes. 

It was he who should know who he was talking to.

note for staff: Berserker skill!

---

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He was wrong.

Horribly wrong.

And mistakenly, in his unpracticed and sheltered-ness, she caught the better of his back.

The man reared, a yelp mixed with snarls exiting a tooth-filled maw. At first he tried pulling away, but the burning, tearing, ripping feeling in his leg worsened. So, to compensate he flipped back and snapped at her face. Blindly trying to escape the pain. Other free foot kicking wildly as he did.

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note for staff: Berserkir skill

---

He yipped and snarled and oh how she reveled in his pain.
The boy tried to pull away at first, but her teeth were unrelenting, and as he whirled for her face, she was ready and arced her fangs for his own, lunging at him and snapping, rending, ripping, tearing into any part of him she could find purchase in.
A manic cackle rippled through her maw at the thrill of battle, and the taste of his blood on her tongue as she continued the assault with wild eyes and fervour.
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She was relentless and insane. It fit her, no Sun Child was known for right-of-mind.
Though the prince worried, how far she would go. Would she kill him if the chance arrose?

So when she snapped to snarl at him and bite at his face, he quickly took the opportunity to get his leg back.
He moved to spin and get his rear away from her.

Fangs striking at every opportunity to catch her white pelt and stain it red.

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note for staff: Berserkir skill

---

Damn straight.
She was relentless, and batshit fucking crazy.
His worries were valid, especially because yes indeed, if the chance was there to kill him, she would take it without hesitation.
And as her eyes blazed wildly, she didn't even flinch at the pain of him.
In fact, his efforts were fueling her fire instead of being a deterrent.
She was an eternal, blazing hellfire...
Fueled by everything, snuffed by nothing.

Nyra cared not for where her hits landed, as long as they hit, and hit deep.

She grinned wickedly as her jaws soared for his chest, intent to rip his heart out and eat it in front of his dying eyes.
And by the gods, was the intention clear in how hard she would bite, how she pulled and jerked, and shook her head while holding on simply to maximize the damage she'd do. 

The taste of his blood fueled that cannibalistic side of her - and she wanted more!
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Blood flung from his chest, the collision knocking him back by a few good feet.

His eyes widened.

And the moon's eye felt to swallow him whole.

A dreamy sleep, like one's mind floated on clouds. If those clouds were made of razor blades and nightmares.

The red came from the window.
She watched with eye glaring, pushing him-
 

SHE MADE HIM DO IT

The halls of Hamiel's quarters spun around in his head- though mere seconds past it felt much longer.
And he remembered his brother screaming.

His beloved brother.

Bite by bite they tore each other's heart from their chests.

And their blood did run.

It ran until Erebus felt his life slip.

Slip.

Slip.

---

The fire eye prince wailed. The pain he felt physically mixed and muddied the water of the emotional, and he lashed with panicked breaths. There was something different here.
Something he had forgotten.

Or more or less,

that he was refusing to remember.

He did all he could to be away from the white beast. Both jumping and leaping, stepping back with pressured speed.
He had to get away.

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note for staff: Berserkir

---

She cleaved his chest and blood arced out.
He wailed.
He leapt and hopped backwards in an effort to get away, the fear practically painted him in heavy coats.
And Nyra fed on that fear with another series of bloodthirsty, manic cackles, chasing him as he was trying to flee.
She bared her bloodied teeth, snapped at him still as she continued to charge with malicious intent.

Murderous, she was.

The Warqueen would chase him, chase him for miles while biting for his heels and hocks as a firm, loud, screaming reminder that she was something to fear, a force to be reckoned with.

And she hoped her deranged cackling would give him nightmares until the end of time.
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And he did run.

Ran as long as his adrenaline pumped legs would carry him. The beast on his tail but, he always kept a toe ahead of her to avoid losing any more precious black fur.

Yet the chasing barely made him squirm.
No, it was the memory.

Or a dream?

He killed his brother.
And his brother killed him.

He did that awful thing.

Tears threatened at the corner of his eyes.
He killed his brother.

Exit Erebus!

---

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