[center][img]http://txt-dynamic.cdn.1001fonts.net/txt/b3RmLjEwNi43MTUxYmQuVEdGa2VTQk1aV0Y2WVEsLC4wAAAAAA,,/sweetcorrection-roth.regular.png[/img]
[img]http://txt-dynamic.cdn.1001fonts.net/txt/b3RmLjQ4LjcxNTFiZC5KMU5vWlNCdlppQlVhR1VnUTNKdmMzTnBibWNuLjAA/sweetcorrection-roth.regular.png[/img]

[url=https://image.ibb.co/dNUXEH/Leaza.jpg]☠[/url][/center]


[color=8882be]"[i]'Eeek...'[/i]"[/color]

A slow roiling laugh escaped from within the cowl of Lady Leaza. 

[color=8882be]"Would you be so kind as to excuse me a moment or two, Mr. Crow...?"[/color]

The whispery wings of the 'angel' fluttered softly as the 'angel' slowly turned around and finally stopped once in the general direction of the hiding faerie.

[color=8882be]"Is that how one chooses to greet those gathered here, darling...? [i]Eek[/i]; for Mr. Crow, plumage so fine and dark? [i]Eek[/i]; for our beloved 'Obsidian Idol,' cast in black stasis, posed without heart, poised to forever see infinity? And a final [i]Eek;[/i] for me then. She of the Crossing. Lady Leaza, Sister Reaper? Is that how you choose to greet us then?"[/color]

Upon the hushed words of the dead she floated, weaving back and forth as she spoke. Sometimes towards the faerie and most times not, yet the dark of the cowl always seemed to be trained upon the diminutive fae, eyeless glare piercing through living matter as always.

[color=8882be]"Or shall my darling just hide from us then...? A simple Eek and a turned cheek. Who could dare to do such things? Who could dare to be in such a way? Who, oh, who could it be-- ahhhhhh... wait. There is something familiar about this presence. Something about how such a word is formed. Out of surprise is it made? Or out of despair? Or is it made out of pure, plain and simple..."[/color]

Should the little faerie peek from behind the tree, she would not see the Angel of Death before her. Nay and again nay, for she would only see the Angel of Death if she looked over her shoulder--

[color=8882be]"--[i]disgust?[/i] Oh, look. Why it is none other than Ms. Lily... will wonders never cease...?"[/color]

The dark of the cowl was but the arms length of a faerie's arm away. From this distance, the little fae should be able to 'feel' the dark within that cowl. The absence of Life drew in and sucked away at the light that fell into the little flying fae's eyes.

Oh, Lady Leaza knew exactly who this little faerie was all right. How many times had this Lily thwarted the Lady's 'claims' by healing, caring for and nursing those half-dead back to health and thereby snatching away what was rightfully claimed by Lady Leaza. And to this day, the Lady's Sickles remained parched from thirst of severing those claimed tethers. And not once did Sister Reaper have a reason to confront the little claims-stealer. Until now.


[color=8882be]"Hello, darling..."[/color]


For a thudding heartbeat or a thousand more did Lady Leaza's cowl remain so close to Lily, then the intense form of the 'angel' swooped backwards. A flowing curtsey and a drawn out bow she gave to Lily.

[color=8882be]"We just never do get the proper opportunity to talk, now do we...? Let's be away from here then shall we, Ms. Lily? Please do join us yonder to gather and palaver. For you never know what else may slip out from the shadows, darling..."[/color]

That same roiling laugh escaped the black hollow of her cowl as she floated away, back towards Crow, gown rippling not from the breeze, but rippling from the sighs and songs of the dead.

[center]~~~[/center]