They come like ants marching two by two. Stupid creatures, did they not recognize the storm that had come to wash them away?

The boggart's soul curled with a wicked grin of anticipation. It would soon relish in the satisfaction of massacring these irritating creatures. They were all so quick to run into the jaws of the hungry wolf, so easily exposing themselves before the boggart as they neatly put themselves in a row - little dominoes just waiting to fall. Such was the idiocy of the horse that the boggart could not even feel guilt for its actions, even if it were so inclined. Their demise would be a blessing to Helovia instead of a crime.

So many choice morsels awaited the boggart that it couldn't quite choose. The first to come, VALENTINE, the boggart remembered all too well. At his appearance the hulk of the cloud began to erupt in size, eventually enveloping the whole of the Heart in ominous darkness. From the center of the gathering stormcell something akin to a face appeared. Narrowed eyes were sunken in as a deeper shade of obsidian and a line of teeth seemed to glitter perilously cold; ice tangled in the web of violent atmosphere. The great maw began to part in a silent call of hatred. From the depths of that absolute nothingness screamed out venomous lighting. It shot down in arcs to rip up the land and scorch the soil and anything else in its path.

Yet this was only the wasted excess of the creature's menace, emanating in cruel waves to ravage the surroundings. At its core the boggart watched the gathering army, nothing but toy soldiers it thought with cool laughter. Though VALENTINE surely deserved a blow, and perchance lightning often drifted to the ashy brute, the hard eyes of the storm turned too upon MANDRAKE as the bitch called out it's namesake. The icy grin snarled and electricity danced between its teeth, inciting a hard rain to fall upon the wasteland of terrain. It drove down cold and heavy, to soak the blossoming hope burning in the souls of these piteous beings. The boggart knew too well that despite what fear wiggled in their breasts, all were influenced by the dark, the cold, and the wet. They thought to be brave and bold, but the boggart would shed their masks and make them the cowardly, shivering beasts they truly were, so easily beaten by the sky.

As each came the boggart's gaze shifted to drink in the depths of their eyes. In there it saw the way fear clutched their hearts like parasites feeding with every strong pulse of blood and life. Every private and personal matter was exposed and remembered, and as such the rain that poured down for D'ARTAGNAN was not the needles of ice as it was for the rest. Instead it fell with a snapping heat and acrid aroma - acid to bathe the quiet doctor that sought to stride from the back like a casual snake.

The true fire for D'ARTAGNAN was merely a game, practice for the boggart that had been feasting on smaller things as of late. With its gathering dark, electric jolts, tumbling rain (burning and freezing), the boggart at last seized its full target. The intent of the creature landed upon OSIRIS. The wolf was a choice selection to be the first to die, bringing with him a fleet of teeth and choosing to stand so gallantly beside the little dove of a mare. The boggart wanted not only to crush the assumed nobility of the ugly horse, but to snap the spine of the dragon that flitted about his head. It was not the pale Fajira of Lace that left the boggart licking its wounds, but dragon all the same rage blinded the already unseeing boggart.

With a sharp bite of electricity aimed at the ground by NADIRA and an echoing boom of thunder that caused the grasses to tremble, the boggart crafted the likeness of OSIRIS. It came from the towering reeds, stepping slowly at first, amber gaze intent upon its twin as it strode forward. The world would begin to fade for OSIRIS and Osiris alone, leaving nothing but a blackness and himself. Gradually stars began to fill the dark, melting into pools of thin water. They reflected the wolf horse where he may look, and still his copy moved toward, only stopping when their noses would have met. The false Osiris tilted his head, morose and stiff in his movements as he stared at himself. "Look at you," his voice said evenly, the very same that OSIRIS' throat used. "You can never be loved as you are. Hideous on the outside as your are on the inside. Why do you even continue to exist? You frighten children, anger men and bring women to weep. Even Comadre fell silent, hoping to be rid of you."

Outside the realm of the two wolf horses, the boggart cloud deposits wisps of cloud horses that descend like an oppressive weight to the ground. Their forms are unnaturally composed of dark atmosphere and crackle with the lightning of the large storm above, vengeful eyes cast about at either foe as each selects a target and charges with teeth and hooves flashing.

---

Attacks:
- lightning strikes can affect anyone, but aimed at Valentine and Nadira/Osiris
- cold rain affecting everyone
- acid rain at d'Artagnan
- mini cloud horses for everyone