MY NIGHTMARES WILL HAVE NIGHTMARES ☆ REVOLT

[rhosmari]

AND IT'S HALF PAST THREE
[align=center]AND I GOT ANGEL WINGS

BUT A DEVIL'S GRIN

AND ONLY ONE CAN WIN

elsweyr — tanglewood — three years

They had worked tirelessly and diligently to place these traps all over what was to become the battleground. The wild cat just hoped that it would be enough to allow for Atticus to get out, that this diversion wouldn't all be for nothing. But most importantly she hoped that no one here was going to lose their life during this sudden revolt against their captives. That was the last thing that they needed right now. The last thing that any of them needed right now. She could feel the tension in the air, one that was such a familiar feeling to her and reminded her of where she had come from. Her war torn home that was often met with many pillaging and many sacrifices. Would someone become a necessary sacrifice? Her steps were quiet and careful as she approached the scene after bindings had been ripped and torn away. She was one that had been on the outside, one Ernst had done as requested if her. She held her head up high even as she kept to the shadows of the swampland that she waited to ambush anyone that was from that Coalition, a name she soon wouldn't be forgetting.

Her face was covered as it normally was by the crocodile skull that she wore but underneath were stains of war paint. Dark red, white, and black streaking across her fur in jagged patterns. Her muzzle was sharply closed as she watched Atticus, remembering the venom that had surges through her body and paralyzed her. A mistake she would not let happen again. She would be faster, she would hit harder and she would kill them. Her tail twitched back and forth as the call to rise to action was suddenly roared out and she felt a surge of morale but her eyed widened when she saw what he did. His body changed in front of her eyes and though she remembered him saying that he had a different body she hadn't expected it to be like this. It was not everyday she saw someone change bodies like this. A powerful wyrm surging forth and she wondered if she could make her flames happen again. If it was her at all. Regardless she turned her head back to the enemy and as soon as an enemy was close she narrowed her gaze.

The war cry that left her throat was vicious as she launched herself at them. Her weight carried forward as she wrapped a paw around their throat, throwing them to the ground and with a sudden movement the canine found himself stabbed through with a dagger made of bone, kicking and screaming before running off after she jerked it from his body. The blood covered weapon glimmered in the darkness from the stars above and she was hungry, waiting within the murky depths.