{Raven}
Raven had an odd dream, next time she was set to go to class.
It was split into two distinct halves, both opposite to one another.
In the first half, it was business as usual. Raven stalked her prey through the twisting, nighttime streets with lethal efficiency.
Her target was a faceless figure, cloaked in shadows and moving rapidly, but not quite fast enough. Raven couldn't hear them, but it didn't matter. She could sense their fear, their panic.
Raven was relentless, though, her steps sure and silent as she closed in for the kill.
When the moment came, she struck with brutal precision, her blade finding its mark easily.
It hadn't come quite so easily before, no. Raven had these scars for a reason.
But this one, after all her mistakes in the past, was mechanical. Automatic.
The figure crumpled, a puppet with its strings cut, and Raven felt a cold rush of satisfaction.
