Phantom Hollow They said it changes when the sun goes down

A tingle creeps up her spine, pinching just below the back of her neck. It crawls outward, through the nerve endings and back up through her veins. The haze in the back of her mind keeps her from truly leaving the slanted forest but every step she takes feels wrong. She knows she shouldn’t be here and realizes she doesn’t recognize the time of day in the canopy of moss that hangs above her head. Occasionally she parts her way through a curtain of low hanging, coarse moss that tickles her all the way down to her tail.
 
The scent of someone else grips her and she begins a natural path toward the origin before she realizes where she’s going. The impressive sight of a white beast she isn’t sure is even wolf. Fog billows around him like a parent’s story to frighten their children. West’s fur bristles when the distance between them is short but her expression remains neutral and she sways another step forward. A rumble—a purr—vibrates from her chest to draw upon his attention.