HOTARU
Here she stands in the flurry, bow strung upon a shoulder, eyes scanning a horizon that defies stability and recognition. Hunting, stalking, preparing for the coming sunless days. Hotaru has heard the sound of the wounded and dying, echoing out of the mouths of countless creatures, humans included. This is that sound. This is that preternatural call that tugs behind her breastbone, beckoning with an urgency that leaves her breathless without taking a single step.
Between the space of each breath she slings her how across her back and runs. There's no explanation for the pressure she feels, but her limber legs carry her like the northern wind over the snow and ice, drawn to the wheezing braying sound that strikes a chord so familiar and archaic in her heart. She crests the bank like a rising tide, eyes darting about and discerning some dark mass standing out against the all-consuming white.
She jogs closer, magic crackling in anticipation over her hands and wrists, unsure of what is happening and why she has been called here. What her purpose is.
i'm the little lightning girl
living electricity
a lightning bolt in human form