A single entity stood on the edge of his world; a dark void paralleled to that of the forest. He breathed deep, the viscous green fog slithering from his eyes and mouth. As the large beast looked to behind him, a smaller, grey figure walked from behind. Her pelt ratty and dull, her mask concealed by a Ravens mask. Some knew her as Gevaar, but to the large beast, her name was not important. It was the purpose she served. Feathercrest knew as well as Ravenflight he could not leave this realm freely like others could. He could not come and go and hinder our feathered doe as he would have liked to. Ultimately, Kill her. The towering demon, Feathercrest, who called himself The Raven King knew what had to be done, in order to gain what was rightfully his in his own mind.

Come.

Nothing was without consequence or price in this world, just as it was hers. For every tug, there needed to be a resistance. Feathercrest had walked the forest once, long ago. Things had changed a lot since then, it was true that our Raven King was seemingly nostalgic. How he longed to step from his shadowy plane, back into the forest again. By the good Graces of his mother and father, he was banished to this place, only able to hinder his dear sister when she would come to him. Of course, Feathercrest could send Gevaar out into the feathered does world, but it was hardly satisfying or successful. The grey doe stood before Feathercrest her head held High with proclamation. It was true that Gevaar had tried to escape the Raven Kings rule, but such plans never generated results. She knew what needed to be done. In Gevaars mind, this was the only feasible escape. The grey doe arched her neck high, exposing her neck to the Raven King.

I give you my life so that you may freely sacrifice it. I give you my blood so you can grow a new gate. So you can pass through the void, into the Forest of Endless.

And so it is done.

Fresh blood stained the shadowy ground and the grey doe dropped to the floor. It was finished. Feathercrest revelled the coppery scent of her blood. He longed to spill Ravenflights, he longed to watch her powers drain. He longed to absorb the Guardian force that was given to her. The stag had tried to kill her once, and seemingly succeeded. That hideous scar on Ravenflight's neck? His work. Feathercrest nearly killed her again, but the Feathered does foul friends and parents had made the work far trickier. But the game plan had changed now. Ravenflight was back, and was just in reach. It was only a matter of time before the stag who called himself the Raven King would walk the forests again.

Gevaars blood had soaked into the ground, her small, lifeless body still remaining. The stag sat beside it, grooming her hair with his own sick pleasures and desires. For the first time in years, a rune reluctantly began to hover and flicker within his crown of antlers.




You best be learnin' me name now, Forest.
Ill be popping by for a few visits I think.


And do tell my Sister Ill be stopping by. We have an awful lot we have to catch up on...