by Death » Tue Mar 13, 2012 7:58 pm
The scythe's blade cleaved through open air, but seemed to catch on the ethereal connection between all the birds, bound by their nature as a part of Sam. She could feel it like a sudden diminishing of herself... and it would only take the memory of what had happened to all of the grass around him to figure out what he was doing to her.
Her mental attack crushed in on a mind well accustomed to despair and loss... moreover, one that did not fear oblivion or the abyss. "You deliver something I have already. Death is in us all, Morrigan. Feel its touch... feel it as its drawn out within you," the voice said, both quiet and carrying all at once as the sensation of the soul-chilling cold spread wherever her body or mind came close to his.