Blackfoot Forest not even into another eternity

he was silent; the wind moved and again mona was wreathed in his scent. the man's inquiry, the low voice of a hunter skulking through underbrush with the treasure of silence; she felt herself began to worry her bottom lip between anxious fangtips. there was no answer to the hellcat's question, for mona did not know why she had thought of him, or had continued to do so, until it seemed the man himself was made manifest by her thoughts.
yet it seemed unwise to thrust aside the query; therefore mona straightened beneath the heavy gold of his appraisal, lashes fluttering as she sought to compose herself. "maybe it was the way you looked at me," she murmured in tones much softer than she had meant. for a moment, mona found his gaze with her own wide green stare, but recognized the danger in that had not abated; again she found the loam with her eyes and was silent, feeling somehow interrogated by his succinct nature.