Sleepy Fox Hollow Trying to transform it
The Nightstalker
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The Nightstalker did not greatly appreciate how open the meadow was, but it was quiet and the blackened canvas marking the arrival of night had painted over the sky, so she at least had the cover of shadows. This place was directly beside the mountain of rogues, the rogues who would soon raise a howl and finally claim the land as theirs - it was peaceful down here, various bare deciduous trees dotting the landscape. The naked branches rattled gently, though there was not enough wind in this secluded place to really get the bones of those trees shaking. 

The moon was a glowing orb in the sky, illuminating the dark woman's delicate features as she stalked across this land, elegant in every movement she made - like a deadly feline she prowled, violet gaze searching the horizon for anything of interest. She'd busied herself mostly with scouring the heights of her mountain, but she was not content to remain forever in that domain despite it belonging to her. Kelina desired to wander just as much as any other wolf, though she did not stray far. She was not a traveller, and she wished not to go beyond this hollow.

Perhaps something, or someone, could come along and entertain her for a while.
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"I do not suffer from insanity... I enjoy every minute of it"
sectumsempra
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Münnin watched the woman traipse through the hollow as would a sentinel; silently, stoically.  She leant her frame against a stony slab, obscuring any possibility of herself being glimpsed behind its roughhewn crag. Her silvermoon gaze followed the woman’s gait, tracking her every movement, letting her potent attentions steep her mind. It wasn’t often than she came across others, and it was a real shame, because she did so well with others. Hüginn had always said so.

A twist of a smile upon her maw, Münnin grabbed the shank bone at her feet and brandished it as if it were a weapon. The banshee trotted over, intercepted the dark woman in her twilight jaunt, and once again deposited the bone — meticulously cleaned and kept dry — at her feet. “Who goes there?” she asked rather plainly, though she had no real right to this information.  
two ravens flew from ódin’s
shoulders; hüginn to the hanged
and müninn to the slain

The Nightstalker
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The woman of ink had not intended to come across a pale figure with a bone clutched betwixt their jaws on this night, but nevertheless a twinkle shone in her gaze of amethyst - encountering another could be highly entertaining. This ghostly wolf approached with it in her muzzle as though it were a weapon she could use to her defense, but the Nightstalker had to silence her inner amusement at the very picture of such a thing.

The figure halted their movements just before Kelina, and she eyed them with mild curiousity as the words reached her ears. Plain words, commanding, but she took no notice of this and the usual feline grin snaked upon her maw. "The Nightstalker, stalking the night as she does. Who are you?"
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"I do not suffer from insanity... I enjoy every minute of it"