The melanistic girl of ice waltzed down to the lower lands of Dawnshire, intending to hunt some small birds and maybe play her memory games. She gazed over the landscape with a falcon’s eye, ready to react at the first detected danger sign. She spotted a bird instead, and hunched down. With a breath, she began to stalk it.
It was midmorning by the time Emi finished. She carefully picked her way over some fallen sticks and settled in the sun. Slowly, she cast a gaze around. It was quiet, calm. Emilia snorted. What she wouldn’t give for a little bit of action.
She got her wish sooner than expected. One would think of the phrase “Be careful what you wish for; you just might get it.” Emilia’s audits picked up a roaring. She stood. A wall of water was crashing down upon tranquil Dawnshire, picking up force as it hurled itself headlong toward Emi. She bared her teeth in annoyance. With a deft leap, she began to pick her way to higher ground.

“Who shot that arrow in your throat, who missed the crimson apple?”