THANA.

(as black as your soul)

 Sinful, insidious creature, Thana is.
 
   She is never still – always moving, always tucked away within the darkest of shadows and beneath the heavy cloaking of nightfall. Her physique, lithe and nimble, moved effortlessly through the dense fog, shrouding her pathway and enveloping her in its gentle caress. Her shapely but muscled legs weave through the foliage, through maple and pine, while the dismal gray and soulless black of her eyes peer into the menacing darkness. Quietly, her journey is spread from the dense woodland of her own domicile, into the sullen shadow of Hyaline, and to the northern border of Nerine, where the salty brine of the crystalline sea seeps into her supple, indigo painted flesh.
 
   Beyond the pale horizon, the sun has begun to rise – it had been quite a night. She had found her way to the jagged coastline with stealth and with precision, and when she found her victim resting in stillness amid the tropical fronds, sheltering her from the vast and open celestial sky above. It had taken little more than a rounded boulder to knock her unconscious, and with deft prowess, she had unwound several long, supple vines, winding them around her front and hind legs, before stifling her will to speak (should she wake) with a single vine ensnared around her muzzle.
 
   It had been too easy, to assemble a display of fronds tied with thread woven of fauna (her telekinetic ability had complete manipulative control of the organic matter, once it had been cut and severed from its source of nutrients and left to decay and die within the warmth of the summer air). No one had seen her come, and no one had seen her go –
 
   Neither the Queen, nor her followers, had noticed.
   Tantalize was gone.
 
   She was hers, now.
 
   She can hardly conceal her wry smile, tugging at the corner of her mouth as she becomes still alongside the Nerinian border. She did not come alone – there were others, lurking within the shadows, patiently awaiting her call, upon her command. The Queen would be foolish to make a move, or to attempt to make her captive, too.
 
   A price would be paid.
   A price she would not pay willingly.
  
   A bellowing call is made, echoing through the coastline with a cynical, cackling laughter to follow it as her sharpened teeth unsheathe and bare themselves within her equine mouth with a smile –
 
   What would the Queen give for a loyal follower, for a sister of old?

THANA.

(as black as your soul)

  ”What took you so long?” she muses, though her darkened gaze is telling of a wickedness that her voice has concealed – light, airy and followed by a trill of gentle, crooning laughter. The wolf within her is lurking, while her teeth threaten to unsheathe her sharpened incisors, seeking the satisfaction of the hunt – of the kill, but she is coy, shying away from the predator lurking beneath. Her heart is steady and thrumming within her chest, while her pulse has begun to quicken – while the intensity of her stare bores into the feminine, shapely Queen.

  She is not disappointed – Nayl is beautiful, with carved muscle lining her iron gaze and a feminine touch to her otherwise commanding presence – oh, and the ferocity of the wolf is roused by the sight of her feigning mettle where insecurity lingers. She can sense the fear and uncertainty drifting to the bottom of her veins like a heavy sediment, burdening her with trepidation as the carnivorous urge within her is heightened by the scent of prey recoiling from evident danger. She does not draw back – instead, she is still, unwavering and tenacious.

  She is a Queen, through and through – hesitating, but fierce.
  Unlike timid Heda, who cowered in fright, weak, and pathetic – and so, Thana is intrigued.

  ”You must be Nayl,” she croons knowingly, her lips drawn into a wicked smile, with a glint of danger tucked within the silver lining of her gray iris. ”I am Thana – I am with Sylva – surely you remember Sylva.” she pauses, her stare boring into her own, while the pale ivory streak of her forelock drapes over her unblinking gaze. ”I come on behalf of Gryffen – you must not have noticed that late in the night, I bound and captured one of your very own, right beneath your watchful eye. Tsk, tsk ..” she coos, her sharp canines bared with her insidious grimace-grin.

  ”Should you desire to see Tantalize again, I suggest that you make your presence known at our autumn celebration – it is all that we require,” she muses, never faltering. ”your attendance, for her freedom.”