violenthealer
A soft chuckle from the female as she swiftly and gracefully darted from one broken rooftop to another. The ruins of carnage below her still sizzling of the aftermath. Where was she going you ask? It’s quite simple. The familiar reiatsu of a certain female was what caught her attention. She had been—for the most part—going to just sit back and watch the shinigami rot away but the other presence nagged at her mind. Heeled feet were almost ghost like as she soared unnoticed by the weaker people below. A cruel twisted smile danced up her lips as her mind strayed to the not so nice aspects of murder. Ah, save that for later Morana. Finally she reached the area she sensed the being. One she had clashed with before. One that had managed to draw the other into a tie. The remains of that old man’s sword lay neatly to one side.
A low cackle rumbled in the back of her throat as she jumped down, the force causing the material used for the floor to crack and uplift. She righted again and the bell around her neck finally chimed signalling her presence.
“Well, well! Looks like that shriveled up old man has finally got done in!” She chirped tauntingly, and her well hidden eyes behind the black and white mask were most likely gleaming in pure delight.
