Famous Last Stand

Eira stood poised and tense as she watched across the way, ready to recoil and vanish into the queer chaos of colour and shadow, vine and wood, if even the slightest suggestion of hostility caught her notice. In the seconds which followed, however, the stranger’s large eyes, set into a quite ethereal-looking skull—far more delicate than hers—turned quietly to find Eira, guided by the sharp point of a near moon-white horn. The  lean, unusually painted body of the other followed gradually, slowly, perhaps afflicted by some hidden injury and the yearling waited motionlessly, uncertainly. It took another moment before the elegant stranger offered an answer to her question. Downy, blue ears craned forward when at last sound broke upon those dark, mottled lips—but it ceased just as suddenly, sliced from existence before any sense had emerged. One ear retreated quickly to the rear and crooked knees trembling terribly beneath the narrowness of her shoulders, begged to follow. “I’ll live…” a far smoother voice continued at last and it easily smothered Eira’s resounding fear, the heart, pounding between her fleshless ribs, like a heavy quilt, warm and reassuring. The yearling blinked quietly, mesmerised in a way, by the obvious disparity between them; between this otherworldly creature and every other which she’d stumbled upon in the Rift. The breath she’d been holding for most of the encounter rattled out softly through her widening nostrils, yet, no sooner had some of the tension eased from her stance, the stranger began suddenly to flinch, even thrash, and the waif stumbled three strides clear. Questions erupted suddenly beneath a tone brighter and now demanding. Accusations Eira’s vulnerable sensitivity deemed them hastily and a sliver of her confidence was crushed; she could see nothing throughout the scene before her that could’ve provoked the unexpected, unwarranted twist of character and— “It is the Rift!” …Her thoughts blurted the statement suddenly, desperately, aloud, as she relived the moment of her entry in a  horrid blinding flash; she fed her own personal experience with the fog into the mind of the panicked female for clarity. The pulse within her ears exploded and her eyes clenched closed to force the startling situation from her vision. At the same moment, unnatural darkness descended upon them and whistling wind began to harry the leaves above their heads, so too the queer vegetation surrounding; beyond, ominous clouds had meshed into one bleak blanket across the heavens and the low rumble of thunder warned within its blackened midst. Minutes bled by and though she anticipated some drastic, agonising climax, nothing further seemed to happen—the other’s hollow moan had failed long before, and Eira realised that the reverberation around her was the fury of the weather. She could not have realised that the pressure of her culminating anxiety had summoned the freak storm, the adolescent was oblivious to her own inherited power, and as the first freezing snow spilt down upon her, eyes peeled apart to locate the one who had worried it forth.

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- Able to speak into the mind of another, using images or words.
- Able to summon thunder-snow storms (she doesn't know it yet).
Forgive my inability to avoid drama >.>