Redsand Canyon One more drink, one less I’ll lose

The priestess in white was up this night, it would seem that this would become a habit of hers. Her mismatched eyes of fire and ice taking in the silvering that happened when the mistress of night was at her brightest but tonight was not to be a peaceful one, there was to be mayhem and murder. Oh, but was it murder when another betrayed you, when the one you trusted and found dear had a plot to murder you? It was the rage that drew the woman, the accusations that turned into a bloody battle. Though it was still night she felt the scorch of fire as if it were light of the sun, his anger was just and hot and she felt like if she was any closer she would have been burned. She had not met the woman yet but she had heard of her, she had learned that she was his equal and perhaps his lover too. 

The fight was bloody, vicious, and in a way thrilling to watch. Her minds came to a ritual that could be preformed in blood, one that could curse the one that died to never pass to the afterlife but to be forever cursed into drifting along the planes of purgatory and the unseen. Would her leader want that for the woman he could have cared for, should she offer? Blood should not be wasted and there was just so much. Oh, perhaps she could make her fur into a coat. Well, the part of her that was still whole. Maybe he would like something like that, maybe not.

The most painful gasp reached her ears and her eyes looked back up from the pooling that was beginning to spread. No time for last words, her life was forfeit, she was the weaker of the two. He shook her until her head nearly came off, the sight was fascinating as she had never seen something quite like it. The beast had not noticed the dove that had been watching, she had not hide her presence but she knew the blood rage that clouded over his eyes. She had seen it once before, and she knew she would see it more. She had not moved until that light finally faded, when reason could be registered again. He howled and she quickly followed to show she bared witness to these events, her own sound as haunting as a desert ghost.

When he finally looked at her she moved closer, looking over the now crimson stained woman. How unfortunate, she probably started out a pretty color. Would the blood wash off a dark coat? Her paws touched the pool of warmth and she simply looked down, the dark puddle staining her colorless paws red. She lifted a paw to her nose and then set it back down. Interesting. 

Finally she looked up at him, curious to his reaction to her proximity. She tilted her head and gazed over at his new wounds, the fresh oozing being added to the dead. There was a ritual for this, a way to take in the no longer living's soul. Damn them to be apart of their murderer. The Monastery frowned on things like this but she learned it form a swamp witch so they would never know, after all, they were all gone from this world. "once the show if finally over, you need to come come to get all this looked at. After all, she did get a few hits in.. not that it did her any good."