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[color=gray][sub][right][color=white][b]Location:[/b][/color] Uhladein, Eastern Marches
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Aah, it wasn't enough. It wasn't [i]nearly[/i] enough.

The sound of metal scraping over the flagstones, and the sound of bare feet splashing over the frigid pavement were the only sounds that accompanied her passage, save the whistling wind and the distant thunder. The din of battle had ended, and the symphony of screams and steel that had brought her such clarity was now but a distant memory, lost in a fog of blood and pain.

What corrupted stragglers she could find amongst the ruins of the gatehouse had offered her scarcely any resistance, nor had they provided her even the barest minimum of sustenance. With the euphoria of victory stolen from her, all that remained was a deep and enduring hunger -- a hunger she only barely managed to restrain herself from indulging as she saw the bodies of the fallen defenders all around her.

But she did manage to pull herself away. These were warriors, after all. Warriors who had died an honorable death defending their homes and their people. She would not allow herself to desecrate the last monument to their perseverance. So instead, she raised her gaze to the sky, and distracted herself with wondering what the rain must have felt like upon her numb skin. She could hardly even feel the searing embers buried within her chest, so Fianna supposed that she must have been cold. Yet it still was difficult for her to tell if the thing twitching, shuddering, crawling and [i]writhing[/i] underneath her skin was her own body in response to a chill she could not feel, or the sword she wielded continuing to [i]improve[/i] her new body.

Pointless.

[color=#CB0B53]"...That will be all, Amaryllis."[/color] She said, reaching gently down with her free hand and grasping the sword by the roots. It seemed to get the message, as a moment later, its blade unraveled into countless metallic threads, each sinking back into the arm that reformed beneath it, and disappearing from view. Her legs lost their strength, and she slumped against the broken gates as a final wave of shivering, and something that for a moment approached [i]pain[/i] wracked her entire body -- then all was still once more.

She cast one final glance to the corpses piled around her, and gave the faintest of sighs. The oldest lesson she had ever learned repeated itself once again in thoughts far too sweet to be her own.

[color=#CB0B53]"...Do not worry. I won't forget. You can rest now."[/color]

She received no answer. The distant thunder rolled, and as her body at last finished knitting itself back together, the towering woman at last realized she was naked. Another body destroyed, another set of rags lost along with it. She sighed once more, and gave a slight kick to one of the more intact corpses at her feet, turning the dead man over. She wouldn't part him with his flesh, but... She supposed he wouldn't be needing his cloak anymore, either. Surely, he could spare at least that much.

So, she stooped, fumbling with her many fingers to undo the clasp of its collar and drape the garment over her own shoulders without dragging it through too much of the blood pooling on the ground. Wrapped in this ragged mantle, and still dripping from head to toe, the pale huntress at last turned her gaze back towards the keep.

Once again, she had failed to die as expected... which meant there would yet be more work to be done. The luxury of rest was one reserved for the dead -- and so, the sound of bare feet splashing over the flagstones was heard once more, as the pale huntress began shambling back -- leaving one battlefield, in search of another.