The night had engulfed the lands, though these days, it was barely distinguishable. The eclipse had swallowed up the sun and left nothing but an orange shining rim to illuminate the birdsong landscape, and the savage was pleased with it. The eerie orange light reflected in her golden markings, the heavy winter pelt starting to shed and give way for a smoother, yet still scruffy fur to reveal itself. Scarred body moved across the lands stealthily, utilizing the shadows as her cover and avoiding any sign of other living beings. While the weather for once pleased her, a lot of other things in her world was not as they ought to be. The pale king with whom she had placed her alliance as vanished, and in his place stepped a mare that the wildling felt nothing but dislike towards. A warrior does not follow people who cannot lead, people who have been given power instead of gaining it. A harsh snort emitted her; this war could not be won with that incompetent wench in the lead, so this was a time for rearming. Unless something happened very soon to convince her otherwise, they might have some dethroning to do.

For someone like Korra who had always been used to fighting with nothing but the aid of her hooves and fangs, pursuing magic was questionable at best, but the circumstances called for untraditional measures. And she was far from excited at the notion to stand in front of the Moon Goddess and ask politely; the God who had betrayed her and her kin, who had chosen a band of hornless and blood-traitors over her pure-blooded, devoted followers. It was unforgivable, but for now, the wildling chose to bite back on the words that she had at heart and focus upon her true errand. Meddling with divinities was not her strongest suit, either they attacked her or questioned her loyalty, but one could hardly blame them. Korra was a loyal creature, but only a few could really count on her. Therefore, it was with an undecipherable expression upon her scarred face that she stood before the Moon shrine, the flicking of her tail being the only outlet for the mass of mixed feelings that she harbored within. She needed this, and it was all that mattered, even if she would have to do the bidding of a God she had little faith in in order to receive what she wanted. “Goddess of the Night, I stand before you.” Her voice was rasping, but powerful all the same, cutting through the night air icily, bitterness dripping with every word. “Show yourself; I have a favor to ask.”

[MURDER :: Dark :: Create an illusion to convince another that they are dying]

thrilling to think, poor child of sin
- it was the dead who groaned within