Blackwater Islands Rebirthing

Nyra's ears held forward as the Listener spoke of her fur's meaning. 

Daywalker. 
One who lives in the light.

But The Listener had more to say.

She was the light itself. The Sunfire, the dawn of hope for the lost and the obliterator of the sinful.

Nyra moved at the beckoning, and grabbed Skalda by the scruff again, dragging and hoisting the unknown priestess upon the slab of rock, where a vague groan gurgled from the red maw. 

The Wardog decided upon an artery, one that would take about enough time to drain as this ritual might.

And she clipped it hard with a snip of practiced teeth, where vivid blood began to sprout and bloom, then trickle to the stone she lay upon a the signal of a timer.

The countdown to the sacrifice's demise.