Seethe beneath a crown of ravens

Ravens flocked about the heavens in a large murder itself, some found to roost in trees while others still refused to plant themselves. The skies were black with the smolder of orange beneath an evening skies and from the center of the halo of crows, a large blast of fire was seen to shoot up into the heavens in the form of a phoenix that writhed before it dispelled into the winds. The ravens and crows were excited, scattering to open up that halo of their circling forms a bit larger when the puff of flames ascended. You would think that they would simply vacate the area but they weren't about to allow their nesting area to be taken. Some had made the mistake of sweeping down to the intruder in favor of trying to peck at her, yet it was the vehement glare of smoldering orange that they last saw before their forms dropped lifeless from the skies. Black apparition was upon the ground and the magic she cast up found to be malicious as a witch's own, for she fed off the turmoil, anguish and anger of the creatures that surrounded her; fed off the chaos.

Below the halo of ravens, pelt of obsidian silk writhed and billowed, lanterns that dangle from silken strand found to throb with energy and power. Her ears of black velvet were pinned into the thick of her mane and regardless of the ravens that dove down to pester her, the woman remained defiant. One raven in particular dove after the black apparition known as Rionach had slain her mate, a warcry of a caw heard to fill the air - raspy and brittle with distaste and anguish. Her beak would be her sword of which she attempted to spear into the eye of Rionach before thrusting her wings to cast her back up into the heavens. Mortarion wasn't having it though. As if it wasn't bad enough that her lantern had been stolen - she was now to be harassed by a murder of crows. This wouldn't do and she wasn't about to let anyone get away with badgering her. Wrong wolf at the wrong time was that avian's issue and within seconds of Mortarion dipping so as to dodge the beak that tried to peck at her, strands of obsidian lashed out unto the wings of the avian as she tried to ascend into the air.

They felt like razors tearing through her feathers and against the skin of hers, those long hairs of silk that grasped at her with a gluttonous hunger for her flesh. The crow screamed and thrashed, wings flailing and yet to no avail. The more she struggled, the more tangled she grew and she could feel it - the noose of obsidian that was slithering over her breastbone and along her neck. The raven cawed desperately and thrashed, kicking her talons and yet as she turned her head to her assailant, the last thing that she saw was the hatred-filled glow of fiery embers that were the eyes of Mortarion before those  strands of her hair thrashed, slamming the avian helplessly upon the ground. A sickening crack sounded, the sharp ache and dull droll of a concussion felt upon the skull of the bird before she felt weightless from another swing of those locks thrashing her through the air to slam her again upon the ground. The snap of sinew was a light pop to the ears of most, but as those locks unraveled from about the bird, limp was the avian against the ground. She was dead.

That wasn't enough. It was never enough currently and as Rionach's berserker came forth her jaws drizzled with saliva, hot strings of venom-tainted liquid seen to seep from the corners of her mouth as she stalked closer to the avian. Closer to the dead carcass of the bird stalked the black witch as her tendrils slunk back into place, her chest seen to heave with labored breath that was made thanks to the adrenaline of the berserker itself making itself known, the muscle of the woman seen to become more chiseled and apparent in her frame as she stalked over to the bird. Her eyes focused on that bird and muscles trembled with need, with greed to take more than she already had. Taking the annoyance's life wasn't enough. Currently, nothing was enough. The heavens were loud with the sound of crows and ravens crying out and yet it was only her own pulse that Mortarion could hear rushing through her ears.  Drip of saliva pooled at the left side of the avian as Mortarion loomed over their disheveled and mangled frame, her maw found to open as she leaned in. Interior of her maw glowed orange, just like the lanterns that danced from the strings upon her spikes.

And then she tasted it. She tasted the finest taste she had ever had. The muscles of the avian twitched and shifted, chest of the bird heaving until the bird's back arced and head pulled back with a beak that pried itself open to give up what she desired. Its spirit. It appeared as an apparition of the avian that she had slew and arsenal of ivory soon plucked it from the air, severing the strings it held to its body with a rough shake of her head before she glanced back over her left shoulder. Crinis shifted and down to her maw's level moved a crystal of which glowed brilliantly before Mortarion released that spirit into it where it would be locked away for now. The taste of that energy was addictive, a newly found drug of which she desired more of. A new discovery for her.

She remembered the other raven of which she had already killed - the raven of which had been the cause of that raven's fury and soon slunk over to it upon careful paws. She could feel something different within her frame, but soon lowered her head and allowed her jaws to gape. She drew in a breath to draw that spirit into the air, sucking it from the bird itself as the avian's limp body arced and soon gave up the wisp of spirit that it had left. Around the woman's form danced that spirit though until it found its home within one of her crystals that danced along obsidian jagged spikes that adorned her shoulders.  Was it not enough to take the lives of two crows? No, not enough - for that was child's play and as that murder of crows danced through the skies, harassing and cawing, she sensed it - the shadow of someone above her.

She knew who it was and yet she didn't care.  "Mortarion stop this." growled out Dante as he lowered to the ground with a light thud, due to the weight of his body landing upon the ground. To him, Rionach was naught but the size of a fox, yet her anger was very much real. He could feel the energy that ebbed free of her, causing the winds to knock at his forelimbs like a battering ram while those black flames billowed and lashed around the woman as she turned to look upon him. "What has you so enraged, little lass. Talk to me." he spoke within her mind, only to feel the cold and hard push of her rejection. He could feel it - feel the sorrow, the anguish, the frustration, the dismay and the pure fury that flowed through the woman's heart and spirit and it was all locked in a place she didn't like to speak about.

"Talk to me, Mortarion. I demand it." he hissed, lowering his large crown in favor of looking down at her level. Mortarion bore her fangs at him, scarlet stained saliva drizzling clean of obsidian lips and arsenal of ivory. "That bastard took it from me!" she roared, only to lunge at Dante and snap her fangs, having disliked him drawing his face into her own. Dante drew his head upwards and out of her range. It took him a moment, but he now understood and remembered. The lantern that she always carried within her tail was gone. Come to think of it, she had never seen the woman without it  - not since they had met one another. It was odd to not see her carrying it with her, to see how short her tail truly was, when she didn't hold it with her crinis - but her anguish about its absence was very much real, as was her fury and rage.

But why was that angering her so much? Why did she care so much?

"Why does that bother you? It is but a crystal lantern." came the voice of Dante within her mind, deep and smooth like usual as he looked down upon her with a lightly furrowed brow. Rionach's eyes lit and she whipped her head in his direction, a growl rattling within her throat. She hadn't told him? He didn't know? She fell quiet for a lingering moment, yet her powers themselves still seethed from her like shadows. As some of those birds lowered, she narrowed her eyes, sending up spikes of obsidian to pierce their forms and leave them dead upon the ground. "It was a gift..." she spoke quietly, rumble heard in the undertones of her voice. Her throat tried to constrict and yet in memory, she refused to let that remain. Her eyes burned, yet she forced back the liquid for that wasn't the kind of woman she was - that wasn't what she was raised to be. Warriors didn't cry,they roared and struck fear into the hearts of those about them.

That's what her father had always said any time she had been beaten low by the others. She remembered how he would nip her until she cried as a pup. He would tell her that until she stopped crying and did something to change her fate, she would never be anything worthwhile. She remembered the day she finally struck back at those he sent to attack her in training, and how she fought back against the others that had pelted her with their magics. She remembered the look of approval in his face, and yet the one thing that she remembered above most - was the day he gave her that lantern. It was a sign of his approval, as well as a way for her to speak with her father Mortarion, any time she needed to. Whether Dante knew it or not, there had been many times when she had gone to sleep and simply looked through her lantern to see just what it was that her father had been up to, to watch him sleep, or to watch him as he trained up others. He may not have been her true father, but he had raised her up into who she was, ensured that she was strong, and been the only thing she knew as a father, too, due to that.

Despite the fact that she was now out on her own, she still took comfort in looking back to what her old pack was up to and knowing that her father was still strong and proud as ever. When she wasn't sure what path to do, she would look through the crystal in her tail and gaze upon his proud face and think about just what it was that he would say. Sometimes she even spoke to him through it, whenever she needed guidance. His voice had been quiet lately though, and Rionach hoped and wished that the protection spell he had placed upon the crystal lantern was strong enough to keep it safe until she managed to track down the thief that she had stolen it from her.

"I hate him.." she hissed, swatting the bird's dead body aside with a paw. "You hate whom?" asked Dante as he circled around her. "That sniveling scarlet bastard that we fought." she hissed, turning glowering eye upon the dragon. "Ah... I see." It made sense now. She had always held that lantern dear and refused to even allow him to touch it most of the time - so he understood now just what it was that caused this fit of rage. That lantern was more than precious to her, it was something that the woman cherished and now the scarlet male they fought against had taken it from her. "Worry not, Mortarion.. But to continue to seethe like this will not help." said Dante as he snuffed out some flames with a slap of his tail, keeping them from spreading.  He looked back at her. "You will have your vengeance and that of which is rightfully yours... But for now..Calm yourself." he said.

Mortarion roared at him and seethed, anger boiling back up again as flames once more shot up from around the woman like a flaming tornado that was laced with shadows and shards of obsidian, kicking and grinding the dirt about her. "I said calm yourself!" barked Dante, only to hiss something in his tongue before blowing out a puff of smoke. The smoke writhed and took form of a rune that soon snuffed out the tornado to leave Rionach exposed, and she growled, lunging out of the flames to snap at Dante. Her jaws froth and saliva drizzled free of her like a rabid animal. Dante let out a menacing hiss of his own and yet only bore his teeth. She lunged and snapped at him, despite how small she was, compared to him. Dante wasn't bothered and yet he was growing annoyed. Large talon of his came down to shove the woman to the ground and he pinned her, lowering his head and breathing out another smoke yet again. It smelled of lavender. "Calm yourself, lassie..." he soothed, but she wouldn't be calmed.

Rionach thrashed and kicked her legs, snapping at the talon that pinned her to the ground by her shoulder, keeping her held upon the dirt to her side. She could see little to nothing and it only made her panic even more. "We will get that which is yours, but you must calm." came the sound of Dante in her mind. She couldn't see. She couldn't breathe properly, her lungs clutching up and constricting in a fashion that made her ache; a panic attack on the rise, mixed with hot anger.  Hot liquid burned at her eyes from her emotions writhing, yet only one tear slunk down her cheek. She choked back a whine, thrashing out again as she let out a roar and thrashed her head, snapping angrily once more - yet she knew it was pointless. He was bigger and heavier and had been with her for a very long time. The more she thrashed though, the more she breathed in that smoke and after a while it grew hard to focus as its lavender scent touched her senses.

Eventually she simply couldn't move and her head fell limp to the ground. The world went dark and here within his talon, she appeared so small and fragile. A bat of Dante's wings snuffed out the remainder of the flames and after her tornado collaped and looking upon Rionach, he eventually lowered his head and plucked her up in his talon. "Soon, Mortarion.." came the rumble of his voice as he stood on his hind legs, eventually spreading his wings as he held the limp wolf in his front left talon's clutch. "Soon you will have that which is yours." he reassured, only to then sweep his wings out and take flight. The winds danced through the locks of her obsidian fur, tangling and whipping through her frame, but her berserker had been silenced, her rage quieted. For now they would head back to his den to rest, high up in the mountains where she couldn't get herself into trouble, and they could rest.

Vengeance would be hers; just not now.