Ophelia had been enjoying her time away from the ebb of flow of civilization. She was wrapped in the affectionate glow of mutual love and whispered words more meaningful touched than spoken. Her heart had never known such depths of love like this, such adoration and hope for the future. Truly, she was no longer Forsaken. No longer forgotten. No longer abandoned. No, she was loved and loved in return. She was found, adored and cherished. The highest reaches of heaven could not compare to the peaks she reached tanged in Torleik’s braids, staring in disbelief that his icy blue eyes melted when he stared back.

But this world was not kind to lovers. The world moved, dragging them in tow, and she had to keep on her guard. She knew more than most the dangers that lay in the shadows as she had been one of the predatory wraiths, gnawing hungrily in wait. Her strange, two colored eyes had relied on the darkness to do her bidding, taking with out asking and laying waste to entire herds. Ophelia was not a good woman, not with the blood painting her hide.

And her past would come back to haunt her one day. Ghosts always returned, and she had put so many of them in early graves. Bridges were still burning behind her, and she had to watch her back.

Maybe this was why she caught him sneaking around her bubble of bliss, or maybe she was just lucky. Either way, she recognized the golden coat and two horns that snuck, wanting something off her person – or maybe even her. Ophelia wasn’t sure what good she was anymore to his herd (assuming he was still with the Basin). She was no merchant of knowledge anymore. What did she know that he would need?

Either way, she could not let this attempt at a theft go unnoticed. She couldn’t stand idly by and let this go; it wasn’t in her nature. No, slights had to be repaid in full and them some. Though tempered by her love, she was still the same on the inside. She had the same faults and the same habits that would never be broken. And no love could put out the red fires of her bloodline; it was her cross to bear and her violence to use.

Thus, she walked with the cleft hooves of hell to the center of their world: the Thistle Meadow. Winter’s breath kissed the thick fur of her white hide, and she narrowed her strange gaze at the horizon, wondering where he had snuck off. Such golden creatures could rarely hide well in the stark grit of snow, not like she could. Tinek spiraled overhead, crimson eyes search for their quarry as well.

“Thranduil,” she called, the feminine tones of her soft voice belying the demon beneath. “How long have we left each other alone? Why have you risen now to take from me?” she asked, a sinister glint flashing in her bizarre eyes.

Each muscle trembled beneath her body, aching for battle as her tongue craved the subtle burn of blood. Tinek fell to her shoulder then, opening his toothy maw menacingly as he guarded her back. The sun overhead cast a warm glow on the snowy fields, though there was not a cloud in the sky. Her god was in the sky and there was blood on her name. Fate.

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CHALLENGE FOR THRANDUIL TO LEAVE HER ALONE (up to admin for timeline or enforcement?)
(0/4)  (570 words in word)
- Thistle Meadow in Frostfall
- Bright afternoon with no clouds but snow on the ground