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Slowly, over the long Frostfall of my imprisonment, I had deteriorated; then I had gained my muscle and weight, filling out pale satin flanks and breathing easier, stomach not twisted into hunger. Things had changed since then, ever changing, always... always. My challenge to Kri has failed; I have failed. I have failed. I am worthless, unwanted, cast out- Outcast is my title now, and I have but no-one to care for. This is painful, this is hard. My wings constantly ache from my travels, my heart constantly pangs, and I want death- want its cold embrace, want its kiss of cold.
Just as I should have, I have taken to the forest deep and stripped of any light. Now only my silver coat is the only light in this deathly cold place, this place where there is no love and there is no care, where there is nothing for me, nothing. Leander I have followed, Leander I have left. Turncoat, I have become- a useless, un-loved beastial mare who crawls through the night, and as far as I'm concerned, may as well be dead. I am a glorified image of a ghost- the only thoughts that haunt me are those of past times and regrets, of the thirst to live as I once had- as a fighter and huntress, as the Stormchaser, as the queen, not this... this loner. I am a desecrated soul, I am heartless, I am corrupted into something far from the beautiful creature I once was. My coat is scorched black, no longer white, from the Sun God's minions who alighted the Thistle Meadow, and my eyes are more chaotic and vile than ever before.
When I hear my name, I am surprised. Then there is only the dark hate for anything that moves, disrupts my silence, and I attack in a flurry of black wings and cold eyes, in hate. I hardly take notice of whom I attack, though I do vaguely recognize the betrayer's form, the one who did not stop me from being cast out from my home so loved. This morning will be one filled with bloodshed.
I run out from the trees into the clearing, ears locked to skull, eyes unreadable except for fury, and I aim a bite at his withers, running to his left and my right- as I attempt to pass, I turn my hindquarters, flash a kick towards his barrel.
""
SVETLANA
the StormChaser
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