Thread: .:The Feud:. [Nightingale & Razerwing]

As the sun bared down upon the open plains, nothing stirred but the gentle bodies of the tall grass as the wind tousled their standing stems. All was quiet as the day slowly ticked by. A sudden flutter of birds announced the coming of the enemy. Viscera was hunkered down, body still, not a muscle twitched as luminous green orbs peered through the dancing blades of grass. Then they came. Those foolish enough to trespass upon Lamia land. She waited, muscles coiled waiting for the chance to strike. Slowly, they came into view. Four men, armed to their teeth with plate steel and blades of alabaster. She moved finally, tongue flicking out to draw along her bottom tier as she grinned. They'd walked right into her trap. She'd spotted them tracking her about a mile back and she'd lead them here to the clearing for more open space. Though she knew the others were not far behind she wanted to get her hand in before anyone else could see fit to 'protect' her. They paused in their motions, worried eyes watching the swaying sea of gold and green, by the time they realized they were being hunted it was too late. Viscera struck. She struck true, a blinding blur of brilliance as the curved body of her blade embedded itself into the exposed neck of the nearest hunter. War cries, a scream of anguish and wide eyed realization of their fatal mistake. The hunters had been following her, believing her to be a woman of a village not too far off. They had hopes of capturing her for slavery. Too little too late did they realize, however, that they had mistakenly been shadowing the very thing they wanted to avoid. Lamia were dangerously beautiful, often attracting attention from men whom though themselves god. Men sought to capture them, to enslave them.. but those men were fools. Smart men knew to avoid the territories of the Lamia, for like venomous snakes -no matter how beautiful- encounters were often fatal. They did not take well to outsiders and the new ways of men. Lamia followed the ways of old, living off the land, and striving for true power through work and body. A close cousin to the revered -yet more docile- naga, Lamia were more rare than even the dragons that occassionally plagued the villages and kingdoms. Their kind hunted and murdered in their weakest hours, a beneficial factor in the reason why they were now such feared beings. The man on her blade slowly fell. She drew back and wiped the crimson stain upon his flesh and frowned. The remaining three men positioned themselves in an attempt to overcome her. fools. She hissed quietly. Viscera was a prime example of that dangerous beauty. She was slender and fair in appearance, body toned and curved, cushioned just right in the right places. Pale, moon kissed complexion glittered in certain light due to the traces of scales beneath the first layer of skin. Ivory hair of silk texture and long length, matched only by her vivid teal orbs and soft pink lips. Lips that hid the delicate fangs that depicted her heiritage. A movement to the east alerted her the others had arrived. The Feud games were to begin again today, so she was certain her rival was amongst them. However, her current focus was on the hunters at hand. It was time to prove her worth once again. As she had done every year at the time of the Feud.