the morning had been painted bleakly; a chill lingering in the air to compliment the broken clouds that skittered across the moon-touched night before sullivan had crossed into the threshold of the nightshaded woods.
the darkness clung to every fibre of blackfeather woods; unnatural sounds rising from the skittish shadows.
eerie yips and spine-tingling screeches that set his guard hairs to bristle.
but he persists; drawn by the mystery and his own morbid curiousity.
Cassidy had been drifting around this new land, taking in all the new sights and scents. The unfamiliarity of his surrounds invigorated him, and he felt nothing but curiosity and wonderment. He had been trotting along minding his own business when he came across the entrance to a dark and eerie woods. His curiosity peaked, and without a shadow of a second thought, he plunged into the darkness. There were many different sounds, all the same in that they caused a shiver up one’s spine. He kept his head high and his ears and tail perked. As the old saying goes, be scarier than what is scaring you.
He had wandered even deeper when he heard a twig crack. He stopped dead in his tracks, ears swiveling in the directions of sounds. He called out, “Hello? Is someone here?” He waited for a response.
a voice calls out; not cut out of the same cloth as the woods appeared to be.
another wanderer, then, sullivan thinks.
the blackbird's steps slow and then stop, the spell the woods had weaved upon him temporarily held at bay.
woods like this, perhaps it is not so wise to announce your presence.
suggests sullivan, voice rising along the dark, creeping treetops.
He fixed his eyes upon the dark, and out of it stepped a large figure, a wolf undoubtedly. His color was an intricate mix of grey and white. Cass’s tail began to droop slightly, this other wolf looked strong, much stronger than he. But, he quickly regained his youthful confidence, “That may be. But, these woods don’t scare me.” He had a big grin on his face. “I’m Cassidy. Who are you?”