Even in their transformed states I can tell that they are sisters, not twins but the likeness is only marginally less uncanny. I unsheathe my rapier, holding a small dagger in my left hand. I was caught unaware while waiting for the lycanthropes to return from their first night of feeding. There will be no histrionics in the use my powers against these two; it would only alert the other beasts of my ambush.

Their attacks are coordinated; it is evident that they have been trained well and that they were trained to fight together. They attack from both sides, weaponless but no less dangerous. The younger of the two evades my blade, leaning backward amazingly close to the ground, lifting her feet, falling onto the palms of her hands for support and swinging her legs behind my own. I land on my back and before I can reclaim the breath that the fall claimed the elder lycanthrope sits on my stomach with her claws gripping my throat, digging shallow cuts.

"Rip her throat out, Feral!" The younger sister demands, lowering her eyes to me. Her stare is dismissive almost as though I am invisible; as though she looks right through me and I do not lay at her feet beneath her sister.

"No," Feral responds, moving her eyes to her sister and immediately back to me. "This is the Stormbringer, mother will want her alive."

The eyes of the younger sister light up in recognition. She studies me, almost hallowed by the identification. I am no longer invisible or unworthy of her expressive gaze.

Am I a goddess to these people as well?

Feral slips her free hand beneath my neck, pulling me to my feet, moving quickly behind me. I have no doubt that these girls know my power and have learned from their people to fear me.

We do not move toward the village but Feral leads me at a moderate pace into the brush. The jungle is much thicker than I am used to and I doubt that I would find my way home if that were in fact my destination at the end of these trials.

My eyes adjust to the ground and I consider my brazen pride. Am I a fool to expect to live through the day to seize a life of my own? It is obvious that these girls are leading me to Shari, who no doubt will make a feast of me. Why then do I see a horizon when I have clearly reached the end of the Earth, positioned for a shove into the void?

We arrive at a cave; the sky is lit and moonless but my captors have not become human. I try to dismiss my surprise; I knew that they were different when I first encountered them. Their anatomy is not beast-like and unlike their brethren they stand upright and have an impressive handle on speech while transformed. I wonder if they are in fact transformed or if they are the product of two of the afflicted.

Feral pushes me into the cave and I am arrested by a stifling sensation, it is as though someone is sitting on my chest. The panic is soft, but I am still in its throes, shaken, grasping the ethereal for reprieve.

I do not understand these terrors; I have known them all of my life and sometimes I consider that I was born this way. That the many lots that divinity has asked me to bear proved themselves insufficient, therefore more need be added.

I wrack against the irrational inner pleadings, my mind tells me to flee, to suffer the wounds that Feral would certainly inflict. To die if by chance I could see the open skies once more.

"Thornn?" Feral says squeamishly in response to the thunder that rips through the sky outside, we are deep in the cave, still the lightning radiates the blackened cave for a split second.

"Hurry," Thornn responds, pushing Feral from behind.

I dig my heels in, lamenting my fear but terrified of the enveloping darkness. There is nothing cogent left in me, no reasoning to me that I harbor no fear of what lies behind the darkness; but it is the darkness, the smallness that incites this desperation!

"No further," I say, turning my head to Feral, so that she sees my profile, my tone is pleading but I am beyond pride or regality. I haven't an ounce of conceit left in me.

"You have to kill her!" Thornn yells, demanding my murder again.

Feral only shoves me and I lose care for consequence.

An explosion of air, not unlike the concussive force that follows an explosion, represents my outburst. The sisters slam against the walls of the cave, electricity weaves itself up my arms and I eye them for any sign of attack. I wipe at the superficial wound on my neck.

The blow is true and I am only able to turn to meet a blurred vision of my attacker, a slight girl with the same humanoid form, yet she seems to be crossed with lupine beasts. I lose my balance, falling face down onto the ground, cutting my cheek on the sharp, tiny rocks.

They flip me onto my back, grabbing my feet and dragging me through the tunnels. The werewolf is quiet, but the sisters argue heatedly, the words are muffled by my agony but I know that Thornn argues the merits of killing me while feral champions sparing me for Shari.

We reach a dim lit cavern; the werewolf pulls me to my feet. The heart of the cavern is covered in water; in the dark I cannot tell its depth. Shari stands before an unlit candle, match in hand she lights it and her face is illuminated.

While I had thought the sisters human-like in appearance, this woman is strikingly human: her ears are canine and there is little hair that covers her arms, aside from that, there is nothing physical to bond her to her brethren.

"Greetings Ororo," She says, looking from the flame and across the water to meet my eyes with her own. "I knew that only you could be the cause of such commotion."