The woods were dark at this time of night. Only the light of a half-empty moon filtering through the trees to inform Rosiotti of where he walked. Even with his strange feline-like heritage and features his sight wasn't the best in these conditions. Still, he preferred it. The twisted silhouettes of trees and the way the feeble light played tricks on one's mind. It was great fuel for the dark games he enjoyed inflicting on others so much.
But to night his mind was on something else. The fierce battled Samsara had led him, and many others, into not but a few days ago. He'd been in his fair share of one-on-one fights before. Those little games of his didn't always go as planned, when he was first starting out. Get too close to a victim and they just might try and bite back. But an outright battle? With multiple soquili, and even familiars, clawing and biting and kicking at each other. That was a first and it was still at the forefront of his mind. The whole scene playing back in his mind over and over again. It had been exhilarating. He was still riding the high from it. And, apparently, still quite on edge as well. Something--quite clearly not the wind--rustled the leaves nearby and Rosiotti froze in a defensive posture instantly. His eyes strained in the darkness, seeking out the source.
There, up in the trees. A flash of gold. Visible for only a second before disappearing. There was the sound of wings, then the gold once again, this time in a new position. Someone was trying to turn the tables on him and Rosiotti was not having any of it. His tail thrashed violently and he displayed his poor excuse for fangs.
"I suggest whoever is there show themselves now. I don't much enjoy being toyed with." He might have been great at being the terrifying torturer in the woods, but not so much when he was on the receiving end.
A cackle rang through the trees. Obviously a crow or a raven. Obnoxious creatures, always stirring up trouble just for their own amusement. Something Rosiotti certainly couldn't relate to.
"I've been watching." The bird's sing-song voice carried through the wood, making it difficult to pinpoint its location, "Watching for a while now. You're strong. Very strong. But are you strong enough?"
"Strong enough for what? Ripping you in two? I think that would be a fairly easy task. But if you question my ability, why don't you come down here and find out?" He was quickly losing patience with this vermin. If only his pride would allow him to simply walk away. Another cackle pierced his ears as the bird darted from its hiding place and over Rosiotti's head. Close enough to rustled the stallion's forelock. It quickly took to another branch hidden in the shadows, but he'd caught enough of a glimpse of it. White with blue--or possibly violet--feathers and gold-tipped wings. But most notably was the pair of golden horns set into the bird's skull. That must have been the glimpse of gold. Quite strange, for a raven, but it didn't make the bird any less irritating.
"You'll never impress her. The black cat with her stunning, blood-stained pelt. Not when you look like that." Now Rosiotti was angry. The creature not only proved it had been spying on him, but it had struck at a very tender nerve. Ever since he'd met her, the stallion had done everything he could think of to impress the skinwalker, Samsara. Nothing had worked. He was at a loss. And now this wretched thing, with its mocking, sing-songy caws, was rubbing it in. Rosiotti gave the best expression of a snarl as his equine vocal cords could manage.
"How would you know? You don't know anything about her."
"Oh but I do." The raven hopped gleefully on its perch and into the moonlight, "I've watched her too. I've watched them all. With their shining pelts and their sharp claws. So beautiful."
This bird was clearly out of its mind and Rosiotti was nearly ready to put aside his pride and leave. But then-
"You could be too. One of them. Strong and deadly enough to earn her attentions." Of course, the stallions first thoughts were more of the same--questions of the creature's sanity. But, the more he thought about it, the less insane it seemed. Still insane, but there was some logic behind it. Skinwalkers were the most feared creature in all the Kawani lands. He wasn't an impressive stallion as he was. Maybe a bit larger than the average Soquili, and some might consider his tail as such, but there was nothing very intimidating about him. If he were a skinwalker, though, that would be a sight to cower at.
"Go on."
"I can help you. Find the dust, become one of them. But first you must promise. Wear my pelt. Take my form when you become the beast." The strange raven was sent into succession of cackles that rang through the forest--and through Rosiotti's mind--far longer than it should have...
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