It was only right that she sprawl along the midnight shore. It kissed her skin with the lap of every wave's wake, framed in seafoam, running fingers of ghostly white through the give of sand grains that shone no less pale in the moonlight. Her back reflected the midnight sun with will o' wisps of light, a sigh stretching a slender leg through a pool of water made from her toes pulling back a curtain of sand, only to lift off the earth and cast a shadow over the sky. Water and strand sprinkled back to their places, forever influenced by her delicate touch.

All threads of black to the left of her head were picked up by the sea, fanning in a curtain that ebbed and flowed with the tide. Her right was busied with the stroke of her hand, playing through its strands and letting it run as silk down her knuckles and over her wrist. She twirled her hand, parting her lips in a noise of contentment for the alleviation of all her built exhaustion in those poor, picturesque shoulders. It heaved her bosom out of the sand that had molded around her, lifting up a swell of the ocean with it and sending a wave home.

The island was remote enough to be far from the troubles she was leaving behind, and the responsibilities she had contemplated returning to, but populated enough to offer the proper... amenities. These vices would be the venus witch's undoing, a tragedy alike to no other, for her vacation was soon interrupted by a militia band of angry villagers. She silenced these with little trouble, if an annoyance that littered the beach with poorly fashioned weapons and therefore remained unsightly (she wasn't going to lift a hand to sweep away their poor hospitality), and had sought refuse in the kindness of the island's maidens for some time. These, too, dwindled with time, warned off by their fathers and brothers -- rumor enough had come tell of the Vampiress leaving her print on every thrumming throat, and Coventina wasn't here to cause untoward ruin. She left them in peace, after that, as long as they did her, and only nipped in when... caroused.

They were not grateful for her benefactory and mercy. The Rune Knights had been called in once the beach had begun to keep her footprints for more than the night's wash, and this was a trouble she found less of a bright side in - but the Countess was not a negative creature, and her mood was recently soothed. She would stretch her enjoyment until came time to flock back home...

Wherever that 'home' was, now. She was called to consider it when the first of the invaders' ships docked, and flaunting creatures in pretty little uniforms filed out. A scouting party? Or were they sent to put her down? There was no one of great repute behind them; Coventina had the uncanny ability to spot money and prestige from some distance, and they had sent her, what: rabble? She was almost offended.

No, she was. She'd rise from the sands that evening and drape a loose black gown around herself, picked off the nearby sands - the very vision of faux modesty - and yawn into the back of her hand with a wiggle of her fingers in hello as she was approached by this... battalion.

"Hello, boys. Could we make this quick? I was rather enjoying my morning."

A tiny ember in an endless night, far removed from the brilliant lights hovering in the vast midnight sky, and the cloud of smoke exhaled under an exasperated sigh. Another night shift, only this time the Rune Knight would find himself among less than welcome company, a squadron of cohorts and colleagues. Luka Rossweisse was a lone wolf, especially concerning his sacred rituals, and nocturnal reveries. Retribution was a private affair, and his less-than-legal methods would surely raise an eyebrow or two from the more morally upright knights.

The monster in question this night was far more perilous and threatening than Luka's usual prey: a vampire. A hand rises to toy with the cross dangling from his neck, musing about the silliness of treating them as inherently evil, an aspect of the world that demands cleansing no matter the cost. Within a man resides the infinite capacity for evil, yet the finger is always pointed outward, never within - Luka knows he is no exception. Still, enough bodies were beginning to pile up regardless of circumstances, and action was deemed necessary. But, whether this sinner deserved to die was reserved for the wolf. And the wolf alone.

Claustrophobic.

The wolf is eager to depart, anchoring close to the shore, a hop and skip from the vessel with a splash that ripples shallow seawater, rippling and foaming to rise to his ankles. If he had to tolerate unwanted company, he would ensure this operation ended right, with no casualties, so he took charge with a holler and howl. "Alright, lads! You all know the drill, aye? Stick close or sod off and watch the ship! No fucking around! We've got a monster to find." And what spectacle would Luka and his men find there instead, lounging in the soft sand in the dead of night? Something much more fearsome - more unpredictable and cunning than any lowly monster:

It was a woman... Beckoning them closer.

Luka marches forward with overstated strides, hands tucked in his pockets, unkempt ebony mane and fur coat slung over his shoulders billowing with the gentle sea breeze. He's not dressed well for the occasion, but the young wolf always dresses to impress, his gray pinstripe suit, with shimmering adornments that accentuate his length and frame. His piercing gaze glimmers a glassy green, split down the middle with pitch-black pupils, dilated and vertical like a fellow nocturnal predator. Luka's tail and ear fluff bristles in riposte to the indifferent way she yawns in the face of danger. A wry grin creases his lips, with a dry chuckle as he plucks his cigarette from his lips. A mere inconvenience are we? How charming... But his curiosity is piqued. He desires to speak to the witch of the night.

"Cheers, miss. Beautiful night, miss. Aren't you just looking lovely? And so on and so forth." Luka's head tilts, a flippant motion with his hand to gesture at the woman standing before him in her paltry gown, his eyes never breaking contact with hers - a hunger swelling to the center of opaque jade. His thumb taps at the side of his forehead, a groan of annoyance. "Haaaaaah... So sorry to disrupt your moon-bathing or what have you. Hear it's everyone's favorite morning activity, late~! But there's been reports of a vampire on this island, and y'know what, love? I have this nagging feeling..." A hand lowers to rest on his hip, and his tail whips into a flurry as if proud of his deduction, brushing against the coastal sand. "A beautiful woman like you just lounging out in the wee hours of the night... Aren't you frightened of the monsters that lurk in the darkness?"

A growl in the night, and his hand raises to quell any sudden movements from his companions. The young wolf wanted to play with something dangerous.