Oh, what a pretty little thing Hisame is!  The clothes, so bright and elegant!  The hair, so long and smooth!  The body, so slender and fragile, yet so powerful!  She's like a beautiful glass sculpture, just waiting to be smashed.

Or so she seems in the eyes of Procella, who cocks her head far to one side as the other woman says her piece.  "Why, I'm surprised you ask!"  Then she bows, quite fast, her hair being tossed back and forth by the suddenness of the motion.  "I'm the rain that's come across your way, O drifter. Can you feel it in the air?" She raises her arms, swinging them up on either side of her, gesturing to the churning sky. Theatrical, excited. "Your drifting has carried you here, where the clouds cast their shadow- my domain!"  The last part is shouted, wild and furious.

Then she suddenly stops, her arms slowly falling to her sides once again, as she looks upon her prey with a widening smile.  "You're all mine now, see?  And I'm going to take away that pretty face.  A storm has to ruin things, after all, and you are just too [i]perfect[/i]."  She advances again now, stepping quickly.  A pale hand slips inside the bosom of her dress, and emerges clutching a silvery knife, razor sharp.  "Behave yourself, and perhaps I shall let you go on your way with a few scars."

The air is almost tingling now, with that strange tension one sometimes feels before a heavy rain.  The clouds overhead are growing thicker, darker, more menacing with each passing second, gathering over the advancing spirit.