Within the fallen trunk of a dying tree, the writhing fabric of reality is slit open and an avatar of embittered wrath wriggles forth, ephemeral spirit solidifying into the substance of the tree that allowed it entrance into the world. Glowing eye sockets lock onto Ljiljana as the being silently wrestles itself free of the trunk, and then it leaps with outstretched talons, flying right into-
Right over your blade.
With inhuman speed it twists in mid-air to avoid the swing of Branulhune, and what would have been a fatal swoop turns into an ungainly tumble as it skids through mud and leaf litter. Ljiljana turns with a fistful of ice, redirecting her stream of frost at this new foe, and it is forced to skitter backwards on all fours to avoid it. Heads turn and a cry goes up as the Kreml Guard notice this unexpected intruder behind their lines.