The Wall Toome

faust moved through the woodland with the ease of one who belonged to it, his dark figure blending seamlessly into the shadows cast by the towering pines. the cold air bit at his nose, sharp with the scent of frost and faint traces of game. the white woman trailed close, her cerulean eyes like shards of ice that caught the pale light filtering through the canopy. she was ragged, gnarled in appearance, but there was an undeniable presence about her, a rawness that made her stand out against the wintry backdrop.

ice woman, he would call her.

her words from earlier still lingered in the air between them, sharp-edged and laden with distrust. faust had said nothing in return, merely nodding at her demand for silence. it suited him; the hunt required quiet, and her need for it mirrored his own. whatever reservations she held, they didn’t matter to him. the deer they sought would not wait for her to sort through them.

his steps slowed as the trees began to thin, revealing a clearing ahead. he froze, his ears pricking forward, nose twitching as he caught the scent of their quarry. a doe stood there, her head low as she grazed on the sparse undergrowth, blissfully unaware of the hunters lurking just beyond the treeline.

faust chuffed softly to catch her attention, his emerald gaze cutting back to her for a brief moment before he pointed with his muzzle toward the deer. his movements were deliberate, careful not to disturb the brittle underbrush beneath his paws. he straightened slightly, glancing back to ensure she’d seen, then held his position. the unspoken message was clear: this was the moment. her move.

he stayed still, muscles coiled like a spring, ready to act if needed but letting her take the lead. the forest seemed to hold its breath, the only sound the faint crunch of snow under the doe’s hooves in the distance.