Sylvia Nightshade

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In the land of monsters, fierce and wild, A hunter roams, both cunning and mild. Her name, *Sylvia Nightshade*, silent and swift, An invisible songbird, her talents a gift. Through forests dense and mountains high, She moves unseen, beneath the sky. Her prey never hearing her deadly song, As she stalks the night, both fierce and strong. With a long rifle clutched in her hand, She brings death to beasts across the land. A clack of steel, a flash of light, Her targets fall before the fight. Her eyes, like hawks, survey the ground, In shadows deep, she makes no sound. Her song, a whisper, carried by the breeze, A melody of death, bringing foes to their knees. Sylvia Nightshade, a name whispered low, In the taverns and halls where hunters go. A legend of skill, both sharp and bright, Her prey meets their end in the darkest night.