The Wild Side

Monarch

Third Person POV

The wind howled its ghostly song, an icy chill enough to send a shiver down the spine of all those around, though only one person was in sight. A figure clad in black stood tall amongst the dunes of sand, hood held up and pinned into place by the band of leather securing thick goggles to their face, shielding their gilded eyes from the sand kicked up by each gust, the grains determined to blind those who dare set sight upon it.

As the sun dipped down beneath the horizon, the shattered moon rose in its place. A soft silvery glow was cast over the area, the lack of other light sources allowing the skies beauty to shine true. Even when day fell to night, the figure remained perfectly still, like an idol lost to the sands of time, anchored to their position upon a rolling hill of gold as a guardian of the lonely dunes.

It was there under the cover of darkness that the figure finally moved, drawing their jacket closer to their body before pressing onwards, cutting a trail down the sandy slopes before up another, weaving a path not travelled for many moons till they finally paused their solitary march. 

Crouching down, the figure appeared to consider the auric sands before extending a hand. Fingers danced across the desert floor, parting the sand to reveal a once smooth stone that was eroded by the constant caress of wind and grit. Golden eyes rose to follow a path of those same perfectly round stones, set into the ground and buried by the changing winds.

The twisting path seemed to lead to nowhere, yet the cloak clad figure still followed it. Onwards and onwards, twisting and twining till finally they stopped and returned to their statuesque state. It was there they stood once more, silvery starlight splashed across blackened wood, half submerged in sand, the husks of buildings standing sloped and gutted from the passing of time.

 Taking a knee, their hand emerged to touch a plank of lumber. Charcoal broke off, colouring the tips of her tanned fingers a pitch black. Their free hand rose to their head, eyes slipping shut as they pulled their goggles from their face, allowing their hood to fall to reveal a short mop of hair and a set of sandy coloured ears parched upon their head.

Her honey hued eyes were focused on the smear of pitch, expression soft till her ears flicked, the faintest creak of wood filling the silence of the night. Her spine straightened as she rose to her feet, lifting her goggles to secure them back in place. A thin whip of a tail swayed languidly behind her as the first set of blinding crimson eyes made themselves known among the cover of darkness which did much to cloak their shadow rich forms.

A serpentine hiss echoed through the night followed by a swishing noise as the gargantuan snake cut its way through the sand, a trench forming behind it. Flicking her wrists, a distinct click of metal on metal added to the sounds of the area, leaving Willow's hands covered in a silver cage as she stood before the approaching Grimm.

Tongue flicking, the dark scaled serpent stopped before the young woman, raising its head high before a mirror image of the snake rose to hover beside it. The white and black King Taijitu bobbing slowly as a matching pair of forked tongues flicked out, tasting the air.

In a swift movement the black scaled head bobbed, red eyes glinting beneath the soft moonlight as it lanced through the air towards the woman, mouth open wide to allow its fangs to cut through the air with a sharp whistling noise, the sound of death personified.

Avoiding the lunge, the woman cut through the night in a vertical leap while the spaded head of the Taijitu slammed into the sand before springing back up a second later, the image of the young woman falling back down towards it reflected in its scarlet eyes. With a grinding noise and faint pop, three metal lances were ejected from Willow's hands, the claws catching the light as she fell back to earth.