Great Bear Wilderness corruption

from a distance — concealed within dense herbage dusted with frost and dark, gnarled roots — lie a spindly creature.

morgana, daughter of night. a well suited title for the likes of her, as she’d say.

the pungent trail of death brought her to warren like a moth to a flame within darkness. and now she lay here. waiting. watching the weakened rabbit twitch. she knew it’d succumb soon, just as the rest that lay piled at it’s side.

it’s the stuff of nightmares, her nightmares, come to life. yet she watched on with contained joy.