The smell of unfamiliar wood, stone and fresh water surrounded the ivory filly as she slipped in the territory of the Windtossed Foothills. The water didn't smell like the water near the edge at home, it smell liked the water they drank. Though the smell wasn't bad, Azale preferred the salt and pine of the World's Edge.

The only reason Azale had even come to the Foothills was so she could finish her quest, given to her by the wretched Goddess of the Moon. Azale doubted anyone would be around at this point in time, for the pale light of dawn was barely falling upon the ground. After the battle the Foothills had recently gone through, she didn't think anyone would even be awake to spot her. Who wouldn't want to rest after that kind of bloodshed?

Even though Azale saw no immediate threats, she stayed on guard, her bright, orange eyes carefully observing the land to spot anyone who would want to chase her away from the Foothills and from finishing her quest. Her muscles were tense, her wings ready to flap and try and lift her from the ground at any moment. It's not like her wings would help her escape this land, anyways. They were useless appendages upon her back, unable to make the filly fly.

Azale stopped her trekking once she was a few meters past the border of the Foothills' territory. She had killed many times before, this time should be no different. The ivory filly waited, her orange eyes seemed to glow with a sense of passion and fury felt for the Moon Goddess for making her go on this stupid quest.

A chipmunk was nestled in a tree, the creature climbing down drowsily from it's perch. Azale spotted it, waiting for the perfect moment to attack it. She had tried to kill a chipmunk once before in the Deep Forest, but failed. The knowledge of the animals quick thinking was now clear to Azale. The filly's muscles were still bunched, waiting to unleash the power they held. She saw an opportunity to strike at the chipmunk, and she did so.

Moving silently, Azale leaped through the air, her left hoof aimed at the chipmunk's back, her right more towards the neck or skull. If her aim was true, the filly would be able to make another quick kill. She closed her eyes at the last second, unable to bear the sight of another dead body under her hooves. Her heart twisted at the thought, making the filly almost wish the chipmunk would escape her deadly grasp.

"talk talk talk"

A frown creases the filly's little pale face as she hears the snap of the chipmunk's back. Sorrow flashes in her eyes, but only briefly. Azale pushes the creature aside and smiles to herself, proud of her accomplishment. Only one more to go and she could leave this wretched place and go back to the Edge!

Azale quickly scans the area, her little orange eyes devouring the landscape fiercely. What had happened to the little filly who had, just seconds ago, been grieving the loss of a chipmunk? Oh, yes. She happened. It was her fault. But one chipmunk lost would not make much of a difference in the world, and Azale had convinced herself that this made sense. Wether it was her who was dead, or another soul, life on Loorien would go on.

Firey orange eyes land upon the plump body of a very healthy frog. Disgusting creature, those slimy things were. It must've wandered from the river in the middle of the Foothill's territory. What a long hop back! Azale might as well do the frog a favor and kill him right now.

Azale leaped forward from where she had been with the dead chipmunk and aims her hooves for the head of the frog. Anywhere else on the plump creature's body and he might explode! What a bloody sight that would be. Maybe the Moon Goddess would be proud of her...No, she didn't want the Moon to think of her that way. The Moon was far too evil; if she saw Azale that way, that would make her evil as well.

"talk talk talk"

Azale winced a bit at the sound of bones breaking underneath her small, pale hooves. His croak sent chills up her spine as she started to open her firey orange eyes. The filly was almost afraid to look down at the frog, scared to see the sight she had wondered of few seconds ago.

Who would actually want to see frog guts strewn about like that?

After a few moments of recovering from the sound of both the crack of bone and the croak of the frog; Azale brought up enough courage inside herself to look down at the withering creature. It was not dead, and it's guts were still packed into it's body, which was a relief. But it was in pain, immense pain.

By this point, letting the poor creature go away with such injuries would be more than cruel. It'd be merciful to finish him off now, which Azale planned to do. The filly moved towards the frog at a walk, then moved up to a trot, then a canter. Her tanned hooves smacked the ground with surprising agility and speed for her age as she silently prayed to the Gods no Foothills member would hear her.

Azale reached the ground where the frog was at in seconds, as the creature hadn't really gotten far away from her with it's broken legs. From her canter, the pale filly rose up into a leap, hooves aimed once again for the frog's skull.

Normally, Azale looked like a daughter of the Sun, a true angel, with her almost vermillion eyes and swirls upon her canon bones, but now she anything but angelic. She was poised, determination clear in her eyes. What had happened to the innocent little Azale everyone knew so well?

Ah, yes, blood had felt her hooves.

"talk talk talk"

Amazingly enough, the frog survived her attempt at killing it once more. But this time, it's appendages were not just a little broken, oh no, they were snapped from it's body. Azale flicked her pale tale, brows furrowed in frustration and disgust at all the blood that come from this event. Yet the filly stared a little too long, and the frog was gone from her sights.

Azale heaved a sigh, her ribs protruding from her sides as she inhaled. She began to look after the bloody tracks, hunting for where the frog could've gone, but they were too smudged and too great for her to follow. Azale figured she wouldn't want to bring such a disassembled creature back to the Moon Goddess anyways, so she abandoned the idea of trying to kill the frog. After all, she said no mercy kills, and killing that thing certainly would be merciful.

The pale filly turned back, trotting closer to the border. She didn't like being on such unfamiliar soil that she had no right to tread on, so she would try to stay as close to the border as possible. Her orange eyes scoped out the land once more, flinching at every leaf that made a movement, mistaking it to be an animal or even worse, a horse. But it was always just a leaf.

Azale stopped by a tree, four wings tucked as she watched carefully for any signs of life, and not just leaves. Suddenly, she heard the snap of a twig. Farther away from her and the border was a lean, healthy looking beaver. She wasn't sure what in Loorien the creature was doing, but it was the first animal she saw and therefor would be her next target.

Her dainty hooves trotted softly on the grass, barely making a sound. Azale approached the beaver from behind, gathering her hind legs up as she leapt through the air, her pasterns still red and dripping blood. She aimed her hooves for the beaver's spine, around it's neck. It was a method she had used many times before, but it worked. Why try and change something that already worked so well?

"talk talk talk"