Arrow Lake ou l'Optimisme

With the grace of a panther prowling over treacherous terrain, the spectre locked his violet gaze onto her and picked his way down from the vantage point where he'd been poised moments ago. Had he been searching his reflection in the waters, she wondered? Or had he seen a reflection at all- what glimpse of shadows might he have spotted rippling in the autumnal sky behind his shoulders had he been looking hard enough to see past his own reflection? Her dark lips pulled tight, the thin black line drawing apart at the corners, revealing molars stained by the rabbit's blood. The fur on the bridge of her muzzle wrinkled in a sneer as he moved toward her. 

She didn't speak- but she clenched her jaws, crackling through the ribs, feeling a few drips of blood and spittle dripped onto her pure white feet. Through him she stares, just above and beyond his shoulder; his shadow trails behind him, lengthening as they did in the fall, tall shadows even at noon. Even as he sways in his step, his shadow continues to point like an unerring finger of accusation. She dropped the rabbit with a soft thud.

"You have a fate you must fulfill," With a voice dry and rattling, she breathed, conviction shearing its way into her hoarse whisper. "And if you do not- you will perish when the shadows disappear." Her prophecies were often both direct and vague in nature- whether it be in terms of task or timeline or both; and she preferred to leave it up to the individual to parse through her words and interpret their meaning. She stepped back from the rabbit, inviting him to draw closer.