Hushed Willows Faust Arp

@Aviana

A soft, silent dusting of snow fell, flakes drifting lazily through the bent willow boughs before touching the earth gently, dusting it with a fresh coat of perfect white. Only a soft, silky breeze fingered its way through the willows, hissing a soft, sombre whisper punctuated by the gentle tapping of branches, like a child’s curious fingers tentatively tapping at typewriter keys for the first time. The morning was calm and cool, grey and overcast, much dimmer than it ought to have been.

It was perfect for the sullen male who sauntered through the willows without a sound, long white tresses of fur hanging from his skeletal form and moving with the wind same as the willow’s branches. He pressed his side against the sturdy trunk of a fairly protective tree, full of branches which longed for leaves, and sat down to wait. He kept his side and shoulder pressed against the trunk and slowly closed his pale grey eyes; all but disappearing into the eerie calm of the morning.