Blizzard Wraiths [RAID!]

It was the dead of night, and she padded at the head of her wolves, fully armored and with Loshir and Ayodele at her side and on her back, through an utterly vicious blizzard. She’d known from the moment she’s scented the air that this night, a few days early of her estimated date given to the pack, was the night.

And so, knowing the storm would roll in come the next few hours, she had made preparations, calling the pack in a way that said it was time, and then rolling in the piles of wood ash and black soot they’d been gathering from the fires since autumn. She’d dampened her own light, and had to deal with the surreal feeling of almost being blind at night.

The soot wouldn’t last forever, but it would give them an edge with her bright white light covered. She had bidden Ardyn to dirty up as well, and now she could barely catch a glint of fire in his soot-laden coat as the harsh wind buffeted it.

The healer’s camp was set on the edge of the Moor, beside the passage in the wall into Valhalla’s lands, with tents having been set up with practiced efficiency – Paladin’s training among the Nomads. The healers would wait there, ready to lay on paws and poultices.

At Aerie’s border, she paused, taking in the scents she could catch on the whipping, snow-thickened wind. Where would the flag have been planted, she wondered… It was most logical to slip in and steal it, however… Her tail flipped in a gesture to follow, and she padded across the border into Aerie lands. It was a bizarre feeling, trespassing, and she forced aside the apprehension. She’d have to get used to this.

Her canines flashed in a silent snarl, ears flat against the howling wind. Then she sang a battle cry that carried a challenge to the Aeriens. Valhalla was here to raid, and she dared the wolves of Aerie to try and stop them as she padded forward, senses on a hair trigger and questing for an answer or attack through the dour weather.

Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think