Haunted Wood Plastic bones

The sun was setting but the thick expanse of cloud that encapsulated the entire sky made it seem later—darker. The fog enshrouding the wood did little to help but the dark wolf found comfort in the obscurity.

Frosted gold eyes woke squinting from his slumber. He lied twisted at the trunk of an oak tree on his back. Hind legs splayed, a foreleg stretched skyward while the other was bent toward his chest, side of his head rested against the damp and cold grass. The position pushed a sneeze out of a him that made him roll away from the tree and onto his belly.

Vision bleary from sleep, Remort raised a paw to rub his eyes. A yawn stretched his jaws, and then he smacked his lips as he took in the darkening world.

After stretching his front legs, and then his back legs, the man set off. Dragged his paws as he trudged through the wood in search of something to chase or scavenge.

Haunted woods had always been an eerie neighbour of caldera. At different times of the day it could look both mysterious and welcoming, then beautiful and with a hint of sinister as well, mischievous and almost devillish. Teasing and challenging the passersby to come for a visit and see, if they ventured out as well. Standing at the edge of the area, Dwin remembered the ghost stories Maia had told her children on quiet and misty autumn evenings and for a while the favorite game of the young Blackthorns had been to go ghosthunting. First - around caldera. Later - they (she could not longer recall, who exactly) had figured that all the ghosts must live in the Haunted woods. Hence, the name.  Aidan and Jay had later claimed that they had gone to the place and spun the most fantastic tales, but Dwin had never truly believed them. 

Now - she idly wondered, whether that could have been the truth. Just then she was drawn away from her contemplation, when she spotted movement in the distance and a shadowy-spider like figure coming in her direction.