Haunted Wood Herbs

“I look fat to you?” he asks, looking down his body.  Muscular, perhaps.  Fat?  No.  Maybe he’d lost a few pound since he’d been released out in the wild but he certainly hadn’t gained anything.  Nonetheless, he held the other’s interest for a moment but she isn’t serious when she answers she wants to know his name.  He narrows his olive green eyes and takes a moment to consider.  She isn’t threatened by him, but he didn’t expect her to be.  He’s high enough she can’t jump for him and so, she isn’t much threat to him either.

That doesn’t mean he can’t have a little fun:  “My name is Bad Luck.”

A grin forms on his face and he looks down a the wolf, though the shadows of the tree hide much of his expression.

“And it looks like you’ve crossed my path,” he tells her with a sinister smirk that the shadows can’t even hide.  Slowly, he stands, and takes a few steps along the length of the branch out to where it narrows.  It doesn’t even budge from repositioning his center of gravity.  The next tree over wouldn’t be too much of a jump but he’d have to catch himself on the trunk and climb even further up the tree.  “There’s only one way to avoid the curse.”