Haunted Wood i will devour you

no. she was not trespassing, then. she nodded her head, swallowing the thick, dampening lump in her throat. she felt herself be unable to speak, until she gestured to her throat. you don't...speak? maybe he was a man that preferred the resilience of commanding through actions— which...it reminded her of home, distantly.
he lifted his head in response, revealing the scar, hidden beneath layers of fur. matted, tangled. she fought the urge to bite at the mattes, to subtle them with her teeth. she swallowed again, wondering, wondering if she could be a good apostle and help, help!
is that why you wheeze? she asked, staying firm in the ground, still haunted, petrified by his disposition. like a ghost. painful?