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Victor
Ophelia sucked in her breathing, slightly cowering back on her hinds, remembering to keep her steps soundless as she watched the Bloodmare feeding from a carcass. This was it. Her end was near. Fear ran wild in her nerves as she tried her hardest to think about how to escape from a situation which had her stuck between a Bloodmare and a figment of her imagination, which was Clark. And from what she had seen Clark do, courtesy of the Mirror, she knew that she was in terrible danger. From where she stood, the Bloodmare was all everything she had heard it to be. A towering beast, encased with darkness and void which seemed to be harsher than the snow-capped mountains of the Dragary city. The fur of the beast was in the colour of sharp obsidian, blending readily in the darkness that
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