Hideaway Strath A Test Of Faith.

Fashionably late

The scene set, the play plucked from the many that had yet to be used. Innocent Death, that's what she called it but the dove did not have a staring role. No, that was reserved for the girl called "the broken one". Her name did not matter but she knew it, she was a gentle thing called Aya. Ah, to have such trust again but the world was harsh and cruel. Innocence never lasted, that bright new light would dull as life proved to you that it was never on your side.

She had been there but not together with the rest, no, there were to many and she simply wanted one item. Yes, you guessed it. She wanted her head, the skull in which the poor girl's soul would be tied to the priestess like the many she collected. This one would be the cleanest in her collection, and a feeling annoyance might ride if she cried or wailed too many times.

On her skull was the old Overseer's bones, her dual colored eyes peering out where yellow should have. Ah, stupid Nemesis for trying to so blatantly kill their Lord. The carnage started and she simply watched like an audience member, the tragedy unfolded in a wash of screams, tears, and the ever presented blood. How much would be left to complete the ritual to bind her to the Medic? She saw how the red colored those that were colorless and dirtied those with darker colors. The younger girl with pumpkin eyes, Leigh, she seemed to reliving a horror. While Nyra, the Blade, flipped on a switch that would not sit well with her now that her mind was no longer clouded with bloodlust.

Strangers came, more audience members to come see the play but they soon were dragged on stage to show a chase scene. Oh such fun that part of the art was but it was now time for her curtain call, she was to enter at this moment. Her eyes fell away from them before she lifted herself up, passing the now shocked warrior. Her paws began to soak up the spilled blood, a perfect substitute for her not spilling the red liquid herself. She moved to watch Leigh and the hybrid that latched onto the part Dove needed the most.

"Pardon, can you release this one's face?" she said it sweetly before looking at the distraught girl trying to pull her off. " And darling Leigh, you might want to get away from all this. There is nothing you can do for her now, she is gone." Gone, her living life was gone but the priestess would swear to those that asked that she could see the orange eyes of the ghostly form staring down at her torn body is shock and sorrow. Should she tell this living distraught girl that the girl that led here for caring was a spirit or would that make it worse?