[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/Zr47tzt.gif[/img][/center][center][color=lightgray]________________________________________________________[/color] [sub]𝐈 ' 𝐯 𝐞 𝐬 𝐞 𝐞 𝐧 𝐲 𝐨 𝐮 𝐫 𝐟 𝐚 𝐜 𝐞 𝐛 𝐞 𝐟 𝐨 𝐫 𝐞 𝐦 𝐲 𝐟 𝐫 𝐢 𝐞 𝐧 𝐝 , 𝐛 𝐮 𝐭 𝐈 𝐝 𝐨 𝐧 ' 𝐭 𝐤 𝐧 𝐨 𝐰 𝐢 𝐟 𝐲 𝐨 𝐮 𝐤 𝐧 𝐨 𝐰 𝐰 𝐡 𝐨 𝐈 𝐚 𝐦 .[/sub] [color=lightgray]________________________________________________________[/color][/center] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/LSidq3t.png[/img][/center] [indent][color=d0c8c2] Black claws pitter-pattering against wood, grooves channeled from paw to bone, scuffling against the dirt and grime and [i]filth[/i] -- she presses her nose to the stone, inhales, milky-white visions rapt with a moon gleaming back -- and a tether-length tail coiled against a ridged spine pinched tight. Somewhere in the village below a man utters his prayer into the gloom, lit by candle light with his beliefs gleaning as a golden lamplight she can see in the distance; holy perhaps. Children toil within their beds whilst mothers coo over their cherub bearings and fathers wake into the night, stolen away by [i]her[/i] presence from an exact moon ago. They count the cycles and shapes, the smattering of stars along the sky they fear in reflection to where an Almighty is told to lay, and when the moon turned -- faced black and back as they say -- fires had been lit and a sheep had been turned to the fields. A fine gift, she had speculated, perched in the browse, listening to the bleats of an animal forcefully made lame by the shattering of its bone. Her growls had turned luring in that respect, relinquishing territory to cousins stalking within the night, witnessing their shadows as they stole upon the lamb. She falls to her quarters, paws crossed, tail wrapped and wind-raked fur settled on her loosened posture and muscles. Within the forsaken church she lays, a vision within the door left ajar, ethereal and haunting, a specter lingering over the remains of faith turned hostile in the last century. It's not her [i]home[/i] but one burdened by a creature akin to she, but far more ravenous, and far more malevolent. A wayward child stricken ill by blood and hate for the sun. Fei breaths in the rot of soiled wood and stone and the smell of blood gone old and cold, slick and staining her teeth. She didn't [i]like[/i] the reputation of a would-be assassin, but the lesser countries lost to time and the world were left to the lingering remains of tradition, something dead and long forgotten compared to the bustling life she still struggled to accommodate herself too. Her shoulders lifted, something of a sighing breath, the hound laying her head upon her paws, peering endlessly into the moonlit night, a [i]chuff[/i] ghosting from her maw as over the peaks of the pine trees the sun began to climb. There's a weathered glimpse in her eyes aglow, glistening white against the orange rays, something tired and old; ancient. Fei has never really felt the wears of time before, but events past have got her bones feeling like lead and her soul weighted liken to a stone. The black dog within merely adapts, but the mortal counterpart despairs at the sudden loneliness conjured in her heart. She remembers once when someone had made inquiries to her thoughts, her morals, obligations, feelings -- it was all relatively [i]mundane[/i] -- and she had paused, head tilted, and answered such with another question. [i]I don't know?[/i] The hound perched within the doors to a church sighed once more, too human actions counted by the weariness in her musings and the speculative glance of her eyes. The sun had risen fully and the apparition slowly began to ebb away, bleeding outward in fissures of black that coiled, oozed, sliding back in snapping tendrils until all the remained was a rather unostentatious creature, as if merely resting rather than brooding. Fei stood, arched, stretched and shook around the effective glamour stuck and slick against her fur until something silver shined bright into her eyes. She took a step back, claws skittering and observed as a rather modest orb hovered just so against her snout. A looping scrawl greeted her wherein she felt a flutter within her chest, heaved a growl past her maw and touched the orb with a flick of her ear. There were little words to be spared, nothing lavish and home-coming, there were no warm greetings or summons, just slight givings to another objective. It was done in the dressings of suggestion, that at least was amusing, for there were no commands to a thing such as she, but the location specified roused memories. It was of dark magics and dead things writhing within the night, horrid things, abominations like she maybe. Fei [i]knew[/i] this place like any other she had stalked in appetence and blinked, setting the letter ablaze. She left it there, a scorch mark against bereaved wood, and left with the howls of her farewells lingering against the sunrise. The village below shuddered in fear, but the feelings of dread had left, for a moment, their curse suddenly lifted.[/color][/indent] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/hTWqOOb.png[/img][/center] [indent][color=d0c8c2] Fei traveled on all fours rather than two, as she avoided public transit for various reasons, claiming such to be a purpose in avoiding mortal ambiance in what she claimed as safety to the locale. Besides, galloping from shadow to shadow, slipping into the blank canvas of darkness, was much more befitting and welcoming than cramped and heavy airlines and trains. She lifted her jowls, parted them briefly, still donned in the blanketed trickery of her simplified form, and tasted Death and lingering tangs of desire gone stagnant. Magic wed to the surrounding plain and forestry and committed the stain to slithering remains hanging lame and shattered from the loss of a conduit. The black dog huffs. At her paws she had dropped bits of clothing, carried from numerous coffers she has hidden around the realm for such occasions in her slight occupation. [i]I know this place.[/i] She remembers, from long-long ago, where witches schemed and plotted, they took lovers to their beds often, killed them on the promises of power, spoke to dark being in the night and danced wild around fire under the glisten of the moon. Fei had once watched such a sermon in action as these women danced, lost within lustful qualms and throes of wicked passion and wailed like banshees into the night sky. Resting, feeding on their euphoria, a goat had settled near and yet far, wicked horns and teeth festooned and clustered around that bearded face. Scarlet eyes reeled, hood-less, lifeless and suddenly the fire had turned [i]black[/i] -- Fei shuddered her memories away, bones cracking, fur suddenly alive as it writhed and coiled as she bounded from the trees and approached the quaint domicile that reeked of aged brimstone -- slight, but enough to raise her hackles. However, it wasn't enough to banish the rancid stench next, it was reminiscent of soiled wool dripping sopping wet with taint, cured leather blanketed over such, but remaining wholly effected by what was laid beneath. The black dog barked around the odor as in pinged vaguely familiar in her memory of a being that inspired more disturbance than her truer form ever could. She paces forward in small increments as they talked, greetings and old words lingering in familiarity, and attempts to remember the names she had once read over in her studying of dossiers and infamous tellings. Fei pauses, curiously canine attributes found there, and sniffs delicately around the [i]pull and tug[/i] of her mortal countenance, a shrill whine peels sharp against the bones shifting, grinding, as something old in magic and sway reels back and exposes her flesh. It's like coming away from limbo, being within one [i]skin[/i] for too long, and Fei breaths in finality as she stands, full height and shakes out the tangled weaves of her thick hair wind-tossed and braided. She dressed slow, as if stalling, ebony wool pulled over her inked and decorated skin with long sleeves tugged rough over lithe limbs and the hem shucked down low, addressing to mid-thigh wherein she bends and pulls long stockings over her bruised legs. Fei distantly wishes she had brought a coat, but banishes that thought as she lifts her hair, gatherings the mass within her hands and securing as much as she can into a whipping tail. Her body temperature fluctuated too often when in the graces of certain beings and when adjusting from beast to human -- as human as one could attempt anyways, and already the battle had begun in a war of hot and cold. She gazes then upon the house, hands gone idle and at her sides. In the distance she hears chains that rattle and a wailing women that weeps over her agony and pain. Fei breaths, her voice raked harsh over her throat from disuse. [color=f3ede9]"She suffered awfully."[/color] It rings heavy against her weighted heart and teases against the desire of her given existence, she can almost taste the Death wet and heavy against her tongue, as if new and thick despite the lingering vestiges of demonic cruelty. Bare-footed and arms crossed now, Fei turns on the last catches of introductions, offering her initial profile. She's never worked with others before, not really, at least not in such quantities and in such [i]company[/i]. She was told of such in her vague summons, but the practice was still in infancy stages despite any preparations she could have attempted, and Fei, with her brow lowered and troubled, could only scratch idly against the wool on her neck and laugh. Merely at herself, of course, but the chortle was enough to summon a smirk to her lips all the same. [/color][/indent] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/6vfSQd5.png[/img][/center] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/ArMA4nq.png[/img][/center]