In the mist of Illia

[Illia]

As Illia walked along the dock, she felt a sense of uncomfort. The wood under her seemed as if it were about to give way under her weight. She kept on moving, though. Leira, her wolf, nudged Illia with her head.
This place seems old and filled with magic. she said warily.
Illia nodded her head vaguely, her mind somewhere else. She touched Leira lightly on the head to soothe her.
"Someone shall be here soon."
Hopefully , she added as an afterthought, and sat down by Leira.
Maybe. Maybe. came Leira's reply, and she curled into a tighter ball around Illia.

[Señor Sunday Friday]

((Please wait till your form is accepted before posting here in the ghost shipyard, shame on you Noel! *shakes head* you should have known bettah...))

[L.A.C.R.I.M.O.S.A]

The eerie mist that lingered about the Ghost Shipyards parted suddenly to give way to a minuscule boat that was of the darkest of ebony. Waves lapped gently at the ship's sable hull as the mysterious watercraft came to an abrupt halt at the soggy, mud-laden shore. At a distance, one would not have been able to see the boat's fine craftsmanship. A long, silver vine wrapped itself around the full length of the craft- some parts of the vine intertwining and a few leaves springing up from its sides here and there. But somewhere in the midst of these designs were the depictions of many spiders of all varieties- large ones, small ones, skinny ones, fat ones, some with long legs, and still others with short ones. Overall, the boat gave off the impression of something that had been crafted by one who possessed a dark mind...

From this boat there emerged a tall, looming figure suddenly, and the mist parted, too, for this shadow. Up close it could be seen that it was a rather intimidating woman of terrible beauty with waist-length, midnight black hair that shimmered beautifully in the pale light of the moon, and her pale, frost-white skin contrasted nicely with her lengthy, venom-green dress that trailed at her boot-clad feet. But what was most strinking about this woman, however, was the intense color of her vinrant, yellow eyes. So yellow were they that the sclera had been completely ridden over with the color of the iris, and two, narrowly slitted pupils fixed themselves upon the girl and her lupine friend in what seemed to any mere mortal as an over-powering gaze. Long, dark eyelashes framed her unnatural eyes, and she blinked at her student idly before neatly folding her hands behind her back and inclining her magnificent head. "Good evening, A'Marie," her drawl was long and almost lackadaisical, but it beheld some sort of tingling mystery that would put even a siren's voice to shame. "My name is Arachnea Mor'Ungol, and I will be your intructor at Twilight Moon Academy."