Blackfeather Woods Ultra Violence

He was not one of them. 

The forest had swallowed him up once he had found himself cradled among the trees; Eldritch had kept him safe and hidden while he tried, pointlessly, to recover. Sorrow weighed heavily upon the boy. The familiarity of the woods coupled with the alienating sensation of being alone without his family caused some dissonance within him.

Their voices drew him from a patch of conifers, bits of spring bramble netted in his ragged coat. He carried a large pinecone between his teeth and sucked on it as if it were a pacifier; but when he came upon the gathering (just as the bodies began to disperse, it looked like) he spat it out and beamed towards Eldritch.

The stranger had found him days ago and remained the only entity that was constant in his mind, familiar, and while a part of him blamed the shadow for the loss of his parents — his need for stability was more important. The boy swaggered over to where she waited, ignorant to the dispersing bodies, and sank to his haunches beside her.