Anger

[Eters]

After seeing her lover to bed, Fe'dath shrugs a cloak around her, and walks towards Myon, A mind filled with questions, a heart filled with rage, rage that had nowhere to go, so It stayed there, as a bird in a cage, agonizing, burning, silent, in wait for eruption, every step she took made her go through a maelstorm of emotions, Sadness for the friend she couldn't save, Guilt for the lover she made cry, Anger for the enemies that still breath, Hatred for those that ruined her peaceful life, Dissapointement in her uselessness, A warrioress that was nor allowed to kill, nor good at protecting.

As she got closer to Myon, her breathing started accelerating, the voices in her head, were asking for blood, blood of kindred, tabboo was it or not, an unforgivable sin or not, The woman was lost in her hatred and anger, All the magical artefacts that were enchanted to keep her in check were failing to do so.

A strident scream, the birds flew from their trees, the wolves hid behind the ogres who hid behind the bugbears who hid behind their warpigs, And the woman drew her blade, running toward Myon, the voices rejoicing, for the woman was going to offer them the massacre they long for.

Her rage fueling her body, her steps growing faster and faster as she got closer the the city, What little sanity inside all that burning emotion, hopes that she runs into no one, in her state, she would definitely turn into a kinslayer.

A few more steps and there she was, standing before the Mythal....
"Do you wish to enter to your home, Kindred", the booming voice of the Mythal asked.
Silence, and the woman steps into the portal, her rage burned hotter as the Mythal examined her soul and heart, though not yet corrupt, depending on what she did on that city, that would have been her last visit to the Fair city.

And so she found herself in city, No one to her left, no one to her right, her rage finding nowhere to be unleashed on, another strident, agonising scream, and the woman fell on cold floor of the city, holding her head as she was losing consiousness, from the exhaustion of holding such emotions in her for so long, the voices asked for her to stand, and walk, search and kill, as she was taught to do for a hundred years, but the sane side of her, the real her, was relieved that no one was going to die today, that her soul was not going to be tainted more, that she managed to hold into the promises she has given to her loved one, she rolled herself into the Mythal, walked abit into the forest, and fell unconsious near the Fox's den.