Lir
A black, feathery mask. Something that would seem unsuitable for a war, and yet it was worn on the last remaining soldiers' faces. The figures’ hair flowed in the wind that carried smoke. Wisps of the fire that rages from the tents that used to be the remnants of a camp reach out to the figure.
A small laugh carries throughout the battlefield riddled with bodies. Her dream changes
The sky was dark with a sinister aura as the last rays of sunlight faded behind the horizon. The wind howled in the treetops as it whipped across the barren wasteland and blew away every sign of life. In the midst of all this darkness sat one lone soul, gazing up at the blackness as if waiting for something to happen. The warrior, from her other dream, bring. A shadow loomed before him, looming tall over him as it hovered in the air. Lir shivers and wrapps her self tighter in her fuzzy gray blanket cocoon. Where was that cold breeze coming from she was sure she shut the window. Lir blinked open her bluegreen eyes, the dream still playing in her mind and yelped, finding herself laying under a tree in a dark forest. Had he magic portaled her somewhere while she was asleep. She pushes her fire red hair behind her pointed ears as she sits up. She had to be need to do something here for her magic to do this thank goodness that her magic portal her bag and shoes or she would be wandering around in her sleep clothes and shoes
