She's A Little Feral

Feral stood over a stump on a rising cliff, pulled an ancient horn to her lips, and invoked the Wild Hunt in a Night with no stars.
All across the darkened plane, heads rose towards the horizon. White stags with bloody horns, metal wolves that crawled from deep within the earth, and black owls with eyes made of stone. Nightshade roared in challenge, thundering up from his hiding place, and Amaranth flew to him, preparing for her step in this working.
Again, Feral blew the horn. There was an answer in the ruins of the Rookery, and from the steeds that roamed the starlit plains. A Xilguar roared from the jungles, and a Somnus Leviathan keened from oceans black. As was his duty, Father released the bindings on his presence, and Night came alive with the aura of its Lord.
Feral checked the straps on her arms and legs, and pulled tight the armor that was set loosely upon her. She checked the twin blades on her hips, and the bow at her back. Her fingers ran through the feathers of her arrows, and tightened the leather that held her quiver.
She inhaled a great and terrible breath, her pupils contracting to feline slits, and blew into the horn. From deep within the Rambling Road, Mother and Melody answered the call. Old Aggy rattled her bones, and her sisters responded. The Pyric Coven began to chant, and Ilvarti scraped his blade on the Weeping Stone.
The powers of the Wild Hunt coalesced, unable to spread beyond Night, but eager to be within it. Eager to chase its prey, and determine the mettle of its hunters.
Feral: "Join, hide, or die!"
The beasts of the Night called out in response.
Feral set herself as the target of the Wild Hunt, and drew her blades.