I saw the end, it looks just like the middle

Restlessness. A serpent of rage that tightened and writhed, biting at her insides with the poison of her brother’s betrayal. It gnawed at her. She’d been cast aside like a forgotten trinket. Her.

Seeking comfort from their mother was unthinkable—a bitter thought that made her lips pull back in a cold, mirthless smile. No, she would burn this anger into ashes with action, not cling to the softness of fleeting comfort. Months of solitude had proven effective at sharpening her edges, hardening her heart. Now, she did what she wanted. No one held the reins of her life, and it would remain that way.

The world around her was locked in winter’s unforgiving embrace. The north. The frozen expanse stretched outward, interrupted only by a fog that crawled along the ground like a living thing. It breathed in sluggish waves, curling this way and that, masking the way forward in a blinding shroud. Each step she took seemed to erase the one before, smothered by the ever-thickening haze. It seeped into her mind, goading on the chill of her thoughts, which turned darker with each passing moment.

The notion of becoming lost within it tempted her—a gamble with fate, a dance with the unknown. She’d enjoyed it as a child, and now her potential was a burning flame she could use to set anything and anyone alight. A slow grin cut across her maw, the soft lines of her features disappearing into a malicious sneer. Perhaps within this white abyss, she’d stumble upon something worthy of her amusement.

Her sharp eyes scanned the roiling mist, but the fog was dense as wool, immediately swallowing her sight. Still, she pressed forward, every pawstep sending a muted crunch echoing into nothingness. Her breath formed thin clouds before being devoured by the curtain. The world beyond was a mystery, but she welcomed it; her pulse quickening, her slender figure prowling forward.

Then, amidst the suffocating blanket of white, a shape—a lone figure moving with the slow, uneven gait of one who had lost their bearings. Blood streaked his fur—at least, she thought so, for the fog played cruel tricks with the light, morphing the mundane into the grotesque. Her thoughts slithered within her mind, devoid of empathy, alive with cold curiosity. Who was this stranger to dare exist in her space of wrath? And what if they did not meet her expectations? The thought alone twisted a smile onto her face, mirroring the obsessive gleam in her silvery eyes. Only one way to find out.

Illusion advanced, light as shadow, each step a taunt. The fog thickened, clinging to her, obscuring the world until all that remained was the hunted and the huntress. She could barely make out the outline of the figure, hunched against the wind that carried icy sleet. The world shrank, the sting of frozen needles against her skin, and the silence shattered only by the muffled sound of sleet hitting the ground.

“Lost?” she called out, her voice a melodic purr, eyes glistening with cruel delight. The sleet clung to her dark fur, dripping down her frame like silvered rivers, accentuating the wiry strength beneath her framework. But, whether he could make out her presence or not remained to be seen. Even now, her own vision was failing—but a predator had their other senses for a reason. And she had not approached with pure intentions. “You seem like you could use some company.” A burst of exhilaration took hold, and she lunged, claws splayed and lips peeled back in a giggle as she attempted to tackle the lost stranger. Her purpose? Uncertain. Violence for the sake of violence was boring, but maybe this time would be different.

WC: 618
"Illusion Nightwing"