Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-28358106-20170331010116/@comment-28358106-20170405000218

Cyndwella lets Kittycut's nod linger until it becomes a question of its own.

"No...I don't think I will."

She stares at Kittycut, unblinking, for several moments. She speaks again.

"I won't tell you, because you're young, and you don't deserve to hear about what the Order does to Undead that it decides to purify. That's what they call it.  Purification.  It takes three days.  Three days my voice tried to call out, but couldn't, because my throat was open.  It was a surprise to me, too, that a Wisp could bleed.  I did.  And when I finally was killed by the same man the second time, my silent screams carried me on arms of black hatred to the embrace of the Saint of Sorrows, where He made me His."

"Made me His, and gave me undeath beyond undeath. An Aspect of His will, of rage and unforgiving fury made whole, my fire burning forever for the satisfaction of revenge.  So that I could be but a finger of His hand, always reaching for what I would forever be denied."

Her smile suddenly, alarmingly, springs back onto her face. "Until I found the man who killed me twice. Should I tell you what I did to him?"

She lowers her head, still smiling, looking through her brow. "Or do you want to guess? If you do, and you guess correctly, you'll know the reason that when I fight someone, I fight for keeps."