Haunted Wood Laying in the churchyard looking for signs

Birdsong played overhead, accompanied by the occasional flutter of wings and a few twirling leaves that cascaded down to the forest floor.

Thisbe sniffed beneath the trees, scouring the undergrowth for signs of prey. Pyramus had ventured out beyond the woodland in hopes that he might find something more. She had not wanted to travel with him. Thisbe had grown used to the security of the wood, the seclusion of its dark trunks and towering boughs.

The dark shape watched as a squirrel raced along a branch, nearly tumbling but adjusting itself at the last moment. It disappeared into the leafy foliage of the tree and Thisbe frowned.