Phantom Hollow Der Winter wird auf den Wangen,

moonlight cuts through the canopy, wavering, faint. but there ahead it grows strong, until it grows and warps into the form of an almost wolf. her path cuts toward it now, for it seems the opposite of the dark and she will not allow herself to slip into that, not yet. 

she steps out of the cover of the long shadows, panting lightly as coal-dark gaze finds the stranger. she falls motionless, expectant. auds seep back; at her neck, fresh blood oozes from ragged lacerations.