[b]Anatiel[/b]

The wind whispered gently through the trees, filling the evening air with a gentle rustle. The sound that accompanied the rustle was somehow wrong, though. Somehow… artificial.

It wasn’t just leaves.

It was paper.

Anatiel landed softly on the rooftops overlooking the young courier, a flock of origami birds easing her descent as they encircled her body. Travelling exposed like this was far too dangerous for her tastes. She hadn’t found an opportunity to obtain another Marionette for the hunt without drawing attention to herself, so here she stood, true form concealed only by the wings of a dove.

Where had that stooge escaped to with her Marionette?

She spotted her quarry lying sprawled at the feet of a Doll; that much was obvious from the makeshift vines erupting besides her. So the blond-haired shrimp was her Doll Master, was he? Could they possibly conceive of the retribution they had denied to her?

With a vicious hiss, she allowed her composure to settle marginally - thin lacerations covered her body where the wings of her irate flock had cut too deep. The flesh wounds sealed over within moments, leaving only a knot of vindictive fury in her stomach.

“Hey, you! Doll Master!” she called across the roofs. “Your pitbull there just chewed on my game! Depriving me of sport and pleasure, without so much as a by-your-leave!”

“I’ll give you two options - you can either offer yourselves as poor replacement, or you let me reclaim my property and continue with my affairs. I’d prefer the latter, personally. I don’t have enough spare time to bother with clearing up the stains.”