"Behold! The Battle-Crow is here to play!" the woman cackles. "But she's weak, she brought the wrong friends! Left the hearth to plunge herself into the darkness with non-believers!" Plunging her arms into the shadows and filth she's clad in she tears her chest apart, darkness and sickly dancing lights swallowing the beach until they encompass everything. Strands of shadow knot together to form a creature towering over them. It has no real shape, always changing in the corner of the eyes, only temporarily taking on one form or the other almost as if watching it gives it definition or maybe their minds just see it as the closest thing they can comprehend. Pseudopods, tentacles, limbs protrude from it around it's maw and the lights trapped within as the
only somewhat permanent characteristic.Meanwhile in the real world a dark shape skulking through the shadows freezes, mere meters away from where Siberia and Sam collapsed, it's attention forced fully into it's own mindscape.