She shudders, a soft moan rippling forth from dry, cracking lips. As she attempts to place a hoof daintily on the ground before her, she finds herself reeling sideways. Her right shoulder rams into a tree, bringing tears of pain to dull, bi-colored eyes. As she rights herself, the bark of the tree becomes lodged in her skin, another addition to the odds and ends sticking out of her tender flesh. Everything she touches seems to sink into her, tearing yet another hole in her frail hide, causing yet another yelp of anguish. At first, she prayed for it all to stop, for an end to her suffering, but as the days past and no end came for the little slave-girl, she became host to a new emotion: anger.

They did this to her, those ungrateful masters, those high-ranking beasts that wouldn't bother to give her the time of day. They had left her for the darkness without a care in the world. Even her beloved angel had disappeared, leaving her to fend for herself. Where was the seraphim now, though? Where had she been with her loyal servant had needed her? Another groan fights its way into the cold winter air; the sound seems to carry for miles in air this thin and brittle, and suddenly the little buckskin realizes that she doesn't care. She has spent her entire life serving, staying quiet, being the perfect little slave - and for what? What did it all matter now that she was alone again, wandering among the dead trees, her golden pelt soaked in blood?

Maybe she should make them all pay.

The thought would have shocked her, and perhaps when she is in her right mind, she will look back on this moment with horror. But for now, the sickness has a hold of her mind and she cannot seem to break free. The soft-spoken, withdrawn slave-girl has retreated into the deep, dark recesses of the wraith's memory, hidden away behind lock and key. She is no longer a stepping-stone to glory. She is lovely in her own right! She deserves to make her own way in the world! She deserves recognition! And with them in the way, with the royalty holding her back, she will never be at her best. She will never be all that she can be. And so she has decided: they must all die, every single one of them.

She cries out, inviting them to try and stop her.

[OPEN TO ANY! Come heal her!]

"Talking"

Kaiylia