Haunted Wood salt coating me

No. Whatever that was she hated it. She knew she hated whatever that was. Something was on her head, ear? That thing that hung off her head that had yet to open, something wet and teethy with little needles was around it. With a cry, the pathetic lump of meat tried to pull away from the sensation. Whatever this thing was, the thing that crashed into her and now was chewing on her, she hated it; and that hate would only grow in time. The hate for everything.