Word Count → 3+ ::
His bulk was not to be underestimated, and time and time again it deflected her, repelling the shadow's advances toward the other bank, toward the land of Badb. She shrieked her fury to the night sky, and the moon, that terrible wonderful god, gave her strength. The night was her element, the secretive whispers of the forest hers, the rage simmering in her blood fed by these dark pagan things. She had come to him in desire once, a similar anger twisted into a desperate longing for the body that stood between her and murder. She had succumbed, then, for she was a creature of the blood and the wanting - The healer and the witch, a beauty of the old magic and the tribes. So different to him, man of the cross and the word of his god; man of no mercy, man of massacre. Her gods, wanting blood and rite even as they did, had never before led her to murder.
The rusty taste of his blood lingered on her tongue, but it was not pleasant, as the woman had thought it would be. Black lips writhed over teeth stained in slight by his life-source, and feral green eyes glowed with acid and the power of the moon. His bellow startled some deep darkness within her - The curled form of Alaine, lost deep in the gut of the fury-wraith. She heard his voice and trembled, for Gabriel's power thrilled her, and she knew it as she knew her own. He had saved her, many times. Would he save her again?
Disturbed, demented, the Shea-witch snarled and tossed her head again, one clawed paw lifting to swipe at it as though the self-blow would still the voices and the distemper there. We came for blood. We came for Caillen. Murder! Betrayal! "You cannot not protect them, foolish man," Tone hissed from between her clenched teeth, and for some reason she felt like weeping again. The anger was fading. Desperation made her lung for him again, the shadow craving more fury on which to feed. "You did not protect me! LOOK AT ME!" The howl of rage twisted grotesquely to a sound of terrible soundness, for she saw what she had become, and loathed it. "I am broken," A moan now, an echo of the deep pain seeping up from within, and the shadow knew now that it had lost again. Muscles shivered, the feral, powerful form wavering on the brink of change once more. "Tá gach rud briste..." A hoarse whisper, and she trembled, a droplet of his blood slinking down her jaw.
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