Mudwisp

Mudwisp
The dream once more returned, a                                                                                                                    blight upon her psyche, a                                                                                                                                   thought, a nightmare, to toss and turn over. The dark black abyss terrifying her, with it's                                                                                                    seeping tendrils and bloodletting teeth, it's                                                                                                         hardened skin that drove her                                                                                                                             crazy.

Awoken by the same visage, the same                                                                                                              sight that made her blood sink, became                                                                                                             almost non-fictional by her own imagination. Not the Mudwisp, for it was too harmless, too                                                                                                  little of a threat for the inhabitants of the island, too                                                                                           foolish-looking to garner recognition,                                                                                                               but still.

Her task was clear, the fear                                                                                                                            of failure not present in her mind, but near                                                                                                         her heart for it was all she found solace in. Her reason for this life, for power, for glory, for                                                                                                  her newfound ability to leap and to jump and to soar                                                                                         among the birds she regarded as her kin,                                                                                                         but never-the-less, the beast resided within.

Defeat the Mudwisp, the Being was so precise, but                                                                                          doubting of her abilities as she had failed twice, but                                                                                           this time, she swore it would not be the same. Slash at the harmless beast, test your mettle and steel and                                                                              splatter it's wretched blood all across the land and                                                                                             perhaps she would at-last be told her own name. Was she nothing without the Mudwisp, the beast that kept away the other?