Haunted Wood you are the rite of movement

Her lips pursed together into a thin line, a dark hum rolling in the depths of her throat. "Ah yes...Ravens are said to be messengers of death, after all." Perhaps their constant chattering was an omen of things to come. She had just said too, that the quakes would only get worse over time. Tzila's voice held no trace of concern. Only self-assured certainty.

Hovering above the girl due to the difference in their height, her inky head swiveled atop her scarlet kissed shoulders. Two cold metallic eyes peered down the length of her snout towards her. Unless she saw potential in the young...some way in which she could influence them, the dark female would treat them with just as much severity as an adult. Her own childhood had not exactly been full of sunshine. "Tzila. A close ally of Vengeance...before the Nightwalkers were formed."