Kintla Flatlands Devil may cry

The moon had just begun it's slow rise into the night sky when the wraith began to trot toward the small pool she had found earlier. She had covered much distance in the few weeks she had been travelling, searching for what she did not know. Faint howls rang out in the flatlands, along with the calls of nightbirds and the yowls of coyotes and ravens. Aeronwyn's pale form was a ghost in the dark land, fitting in among the gnarled trees and the underlying feel corrupt evil. 

The pool was still, not a ripple marred it's surface. Aeronwyn's pale shadow flirted across the surface as she trotted along the edge. She leapt gracefully onto a boulder laying a foot from the bank of the pool. draping her form across it, she bent her muzzle toward the water and lapped at cool water. Ripples marred the perfect reflection of stars, sky and moon. Feeling oddly secure, Aeronwyn lifted her muzzle to the sky and let out o howl- this one called for a companion, someone to hunt with this perfect night. She had been alone far too long, and this night was alluring and full of potential.