The jungle welcomes her with open arms, the dank tree boughs of moss infested trees reaching and clawing for her as she comes, their shadows rising up like steam from the moistened ground to beckon her into its embrace. And willingly does her body dissolve into the natural gloom of the jungle, succumbing to the magnetism of oversized trees that loomed tall and unpromising at the mouth of the Valkyrie Kingdom. And it is beneath these very trees that she moves, goaded by the murmur of voices and the lure of shadow writhed and twisted before her like a summoning hand. And it is with such boldness that she moves! Bold for she traipses into the web of her enemy, careless and indifferent of who now warms the throne that had once been Kitty’s and utterly untroubled by the simple fact that two of them would rather wrap their hands around each others throats then embrace one another as ‘sisters’. Oh and how such a thought makes her smile! Grin with a wicked sort of glee that could only be harbored by the truthfully villainous.
And it is with such a dastardly frame of mind that she looks upon them from the solace of shadows, nothing more than a transient flicker of movement amongst the natural shade of the jungle canopy. It is there that she remains, providing them with no indication that there may be something in the gloom that stalks them, that watches them with all the inclinations of a riled predator, and riled she surely is.
It is shadow that precedes her, oozing thin and vaporous from the damp ground, rising in murky wisps like smoke from a fire and slithering towards them like any harmless serpent before twisting and coiling up their legs. Thin and barely tangible are the tendrils of shadow that herald her coming, growing darker and more definite as she draws nearer… then shattering like glass into a fine powder and fading all together.
And it is then that she finally moves, moving in their midst stinking of fire and of brimstone with a loathsome smirk upon her lips and contemptible gleam in partially lidded eyes, fixing Viriarus with a foul and knowing smile. Wittingly she allows the silence to hang tense and tangible between them, consciously allowing the tension to bleed and infect into those that surround them like a contagious infection. But she says nothing, for the smile on her lips and the look in her eyes speaks volumes more than any spoken statement ever could.
With a purposefully slothfully blink she looks away from Viriarus, her eyes opening with a similar slowness when at long last she looks upon Arianah, the rest of them forgotten.
“If you are here in search of an alliance with Viriarus I will sadly have to agree and assume you are foolish.” She laughs, her laughter dark and foreboding, empty of every amiable quality that laughter by rights should possess. “A fickle girl she is. Like a kid who grows tired of a new toy before the day is through.”
In a theatrically rapid movement the wisps of shadow that had shattered like shards of pottery sprung once more from the fetid ground, springing with a strange alacrity towards Rapier’s body and coiling around her as though they feared to lose her. These tendrils of darkness twisting like amorous fingers into a humidity dampened mane, leaning close to falsely inattentive ears as though keen to whisper and trailing along her forehead as though they sought to wholly consume her where she stood.
“Unless of course she has changed and finally learned the benefits of loyalty. But I doubt it.”
And so she stands stoic and formidable with the mantle of her fallen regime upon her damned shoulders, truly frightening in everything she represented and the weight the words that hung perilously in the heavy air of the jungle.
GO ON BABY SCREAM FOR GOD
HE CAN'T HEAR YOU.
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