Moonspear the devil at your door

All welcome. Full moon, overcast, 8°C. Feel free to pp the cougar.

 

A warbling howl cried out, shattering the haunting silence of the witching hour. It sung a warning for all those sleeping soundly in their hollow dens:

Cougar.

Quietly the messenger paced along the invisible boundary of the stone-carved kingdom; watching, waiting. Jaws clenched tight, her frustration brewing. The feline blood clinging to her whiskers was all that could pacify the raven-cloaked woman, quieting the growl that threatened to rumble up from her chest as seconds turned into minutes.
She licked at it indignantly, and waited with pricked ears for the sound of havoc which was sure to erupt from somewhere deeper inside the dark tangle of trees.