kill the queen

Banshee's wounds had healed well. One may say they arent one hundred percent but they were pretty darn close. At this point the scabs had fallen off and the skin was just itchy from the healing process. There was no longer a risk of infection or reopening any of the lacerations. That being said she was not nearly as frail as she had been but she was still skinnier then normal. Overall, Banshee felt fine.

The yearling marched into the battlefield with one goal. To improve upon her fighting skills. Perhaps she'd find a match for a spar or a real fight. The thought of a fight beyond a spar gave her a shiver but with her growing knowledge she felt as though she may be able to hold her own with some more practice. Banshee moved through the barren and slightly chilled lands with a neutral demeanor. No longer was she surrounded by her kin or protectors. She was alone in a dangerous wasteland begging for a fight. What could go wrong? With that she tossed her head into the air and let forth an illustrious call beneath the sun's gaze for anyone willing to spar.

""