There are days the world comes to full colour from the night, from the greys under the moon to every colour of the rainbow and more. Today we have the fog, and so as it warms up the world will be born from this whiteness, as if it were art appearing on a three dimensional canvass. A vast blanket of white hung heavy over the hills. It suffocated every building and every tree at their base, swallowing every distant object and vanishing around every corner. It crept around the spider-witch ankles, so thick you could cut it with a knife, and she seemed shorter than usual and just as sinister.
Her face moved a little too slowly, as she was taking in the surroundings more than anything else. From the first time she happened upon these eerie lands she knew she shall call them home; if she were honest, they were not different. The familiar odor, the familiar mist engulfing her/ Oh how she craved the macabre, the morbid. She welcomed it with her very being. Welcomed the drak forces of the crusades. Then she grinned. As she did so the temperature in the land fell a little. Even in the dim light of the stormy night they could see her bared murderous teeth. It was a cheshire grin of sorts, the kind that was so wide it was more as if she wanted to eat everyone rather than say hello.
Come one, come all.
Ghouls and fools without any rules.
In the darkness of the swamp, only her cerulean eyes were visible, glowing like minature suns. Even in the dim light of the moon, she was - cat like, shadows engulfing her form, protecting her, yet not quite right. Beneath the two glowing azure eyes, was the grin that split the spider-witch face with it's rows of visious sharp teeth.
Heed, and listen closely.
Mature themed character; thread at your own risk, violence may occur without provocation. Has a Silver Fox named Briar and a Grackle named Hræfn. They are supposed to be with her at all times unless stated otherwise.
