Ravensblood Forest Death and all her friends

Because this plot can't wait any longer, I guess it's time. @Atshen, @Miraak, @Cicero, @Snake, @Vandal, @Abraxas (and whoever else wanted to participate).

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Her son returns that morning after quite some time, beckoning her with the call of triumph, but she does not take her advance unto Teaghlaigh until the sun hovers on the verge of becoming swallowed by the night, a time where her kind walk unseen and their demons lurk not too far behind. With the location of her mark, she no sooner rallies what support she is able to muster from contaminated ranks (leaving some uninvited) and calls the call of advance, summoning the loyalists to follow the wraith into a battle that may either leave them bloody or uncontempt. The wolves of the dark woods are beings of a habit so destructive that the absense of unrest would sooner make them whole than break them. They thrived off the pain of those who have wronged them and were left unsatisfied when their bloodlust is not met, a trait she was soon getting tired of. She promises them nothing of war, but speaks to them of vengence and the disrespect shown by two strangers (one of which who had previously abandoned their ranks) and a woman with so little sense of self-independence that she followed the traitor into the arms of Death herself. Nemesis was a creature of unparrallelled wrath, but a rallied troupe of killers with ideas of revenge was quite the different story. She did not even need to being the mantra of For Meldresi, For the Night Mother, For the Glory! They had nothing better to do, and if her reign in Blackfeather was to come to an end, she would not fade out as the woman who conquered nothing.

But as they arrive on the borders of a land quite a distance away, the mood of their travel brings little ego-enticed excitement, but pure endarkened adrenline, for the pack of which the blood trail leads to is clearly a pack of little numbers and their upperhand is assured. She scoffs, but she does not need to summon the presence of those who lurk within. Their scent is strong, and perhaps too intense to ignore. Instead, she calls her commerades to halt, and waits. Waits until those who cowar within to make themselves known, for she is waiting, and the Reaper does not leave until the soul is scavanged.

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