The frozen valley stretched out like a desolate canvas, painted in shades of white and red under the ethereal light of the aurora borealis.
"Hagaaaa...
She breath out a cloud of cold air.
As she swing both hands cleaning the slimy partially hardening blood from the blades in hand.
"Disgusting."
Moca said as she stood at the epicenter of the chaos she had wrought, her lithe figure silhouetted against the swirling snowflakes that where falling hard and constant.
Her crimson eyes swept across the battlefield with a detached emotion. Hundreds of slug corpses littered the ground, their once-formidable crystalline bodies now reduced to shattered sculptures, or in peices.
The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood and the acrid scent of cryogenic slime, bile of their innards that flood the cold ground, or what counts as innards for them atleast.
