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The shard pulsed with an odd, purple glow in the dark shadows of the cave. The Dark Empress watched it with interest, considering the words of the griffons that had given it to her. It had brought them pain and misfortune, she knew, but that was because they did not know how to harness its power. That was why it had come to her, she was sure of it. Even now, alone in the cave, it called to her, a vague, wordless whisper in the back of her mind, enticing her ever closer. Hypnotic steps drew her ever-closer to the obsidian-cased violet; still, she stopped just short of crushing it, paused to regard its eerie beauty. It almost appeared that smoke had been trapped within the casing, roiling and writhing inside. Perhaps it was some dark spirit, trapped, calling for release. She did not stop to think of what might happen if she could not control its power. She was not one to consider weakness such as that; if she set her mind to controlling it, it would be controlled, and that was that. Still, with her recent thoughts and (she shuddered) feelings being... radical, at best, perhaps a bit of caution might have been warranted. She lifted a foreleg. Caution be damned; she couldn't care less. Hoof dangled over the shard, and the jackal felt a thrill at its impending doom. Perhaps it was the power calling to her again, but it was probably just her own sick enjoyment. Down the hoof came, and the shard shattered. "Talk talk talk." |
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![[Image: psycheicon.png]](http://i800.photobucket.com/albums/yy285/schwartze_asylum/psycheicon.png)
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Use of force and/or magic (with the exception of death) is allowed at all times.
