The sand sounds like a wolf baying low at the moon and the sound of it makes her grit her teeth until they ache. It trembles beneath her feet as if it's begging her to move, to run, to do anything but drag her tail in long, broken lines across the surface of it. Each cleave through the sand is a warning writ in the only language that beasts and things monstrous understand.
Thana is speaking to the island in tomes of magic and violence. If you come I will kill you. The island laughs back at her, with bones of birch and scales of frond, I am already here. And everything in her-- every black, rabid magic thing-- is roaring for the challenge, for the thought that she is nothing more than another lost unicorn wandering the shores wanting and waiting.
So when the snake rises and licks at the air like a wicked thing scenting for the meal to come she steps forward. Thana rears and where all the others rush forward with words whispered between them she only screams a challenge to the beast. The sunlight, shifting once more though the blue, lances through her horn like a thousand small golden arrows dripped in ichor. Her tail whistles a shrill echo to the battle-cry when she cracks her blade through the air (like a sea-creature smacking their tail through a wave).
Thana runs to meet the beast. Her horn is pointed straight down the maw of the snake like a compass pointing to the true north. . She drags another line across the sand. Her teeth are bare in a feral smile, a sneer, a look that says better than any words, until the end of us. She lunges for the throat of the beast and whatever ocean or sand heart pushes blood through it.
Until the end.
Because this is the age of monsters and Thana is home.
@thana chooses option one
