By the name of Oblivion she had failed twice; twice ousted, twice defeated, twice turned out to die in the Wilds. But she had not died. For long months she lived, emaciated and sickly, her lungs rattling with the breath of Death, but her heart beat on and her blood keep pulsing through her veins. She was despicable; she couldn't even die for the sake of her foul honor, no, no, no! HA!

Who was Confutatis, the Queen of Skulls, the Lady Death? A failure. Still, she fought on, battered her way through the darkest days and longest nights with her teeth bared and foam dripping from her acid mouth, full of bottled poison and silent fury.

She would make them pay.
Every single one.

The hellion moved silently, black wraith followed by blacker shadow, her kitsune trotting at her heels, small and weak, covered in scars from her poison kisses. He was more useless than a fucking rat, but she kept him anyway. It thrilled her, to feel the rough rage of his mind burning next to hers, sharp as a bloody knife next to her shambling thoughts, wicked and twisted. They moved towards the red heat of Hell on earth, in hopes it would warm their shriveled hearts, and the sun descended from its zenith, till the world was black as her charcoal coat and the stars glittered in swathes thick and bright across the sky.

It smelled of ash and death, and she liked that, marveled at the scent of lingering heat, let it warm her to her frozen bones.

And she spied more gathering on the horizon, all the colors of horses, red and brown and black and golden. Phaedra. She recognized the slut with a sneer, lips curling back into mockery of a grin, stalking forward closer to them, hatred glinting in her eyes. Fucking whore. Mongrel quickened, joining his mind to hers in curiosity, riffling through the hateful memories.

And he barked outloud in laughter. Ha ha ha.

But Confutatis' gaze is soon drawn the slut to the lavender mare, crowned with wings and horns, and she inhales, snot dribbling down from her nostrils, curiosity filling up her blind eyes. "She is a GOD." The Lady of nothing hisses, recoils, muscles flexing, turning her head away.

Can the Moon Goddess read her mind? Can she tell how Confutatis hungers for her approval, for guidance and counselling...

For a blessing?