The girl of dark slate and golden markings found herself slinking among the serene grove of towering willow trees. Their long, draping branches swayed gently in the breeze, creating a dance of shadows and light on the forest floor. Like hands, they motioned her over to walk among them. Unlike the caverns of the gorge, here the darkness could only be found in the small shadows below the branches due to the dappling moonlight filtering through the dense canopy above. Silver orbs glinted as she stepped around the winding trails, boredom hanging heavily within the girl whilst the willows beckoned her deeper into the heart of the grove.

The branches of the willows hung low, almost touching the ground in some places, creating natural and hidden pathways that seemed to lead to secret places as far as she could see. With each rustle of the leaves and whisper of the wind, the trees seemed to come alive, their ancient limbs reaching out as if to embrace her. She wanted them to caress her, to tell her she was beautiful in their silent way; to whisper praises to her listening ears. She deserved it, after all.

Nestled among the clusters of massive willows lay a large pond, its surface covered in a vibrant carpet of lily pads. Fish darted beneath the surface, their silver scales flashing in the dappled light, while frogs croaked and leaped from pad to pad with playful abandon. She watched with an indifference much too cold for her age, taking in the world of light she had stepped into. As she stood at the water's edge, the girl felt a sense of detached peace wash over her. Yet, at the same time, a profound emptiness she wondered if she would ever be able to fill.

illu

Detached from the others. Too many, too warm, too often. His skin crawled, teeth always bared, fur constantly bristled. Why did they have to touch him so much? Too much. Yuck. Staying away, as far as he can, without being grumbled at. Sleep at the base of the three, beneath the willows. Watch the fireflies, listen to the stream. It was much better out here. His eyes wide, ears flicking back and forth, tail tapping at the bark and dirt. Sleep is foreign to him. Day is terrible, too bright unless clouds roll in. Nighttime is nicer, more peaceful, leave busy. He likes that but its perhaps the only thing he likes aside from the puppy instinct to be attached to Cricket. Crickets. He can hear those. Grasshoppers? He's not sure the difference, doesn't particularly care either. They both taste the same, spill the same blood. Infuriate him with their incessant buzzing and too fast movements. Bright green eyes look for those bugs but only find frogs and more fluttering fireflies. Right, quiet, serene, peaceful. A gentle wind through the boughs that brings scents to his twitching nose. Ah, there, wait. Alert, body already standing, muscles rigid. Wolf. Female. Searching, almost as if he's a bomb locking onto a target. Ears press forward, tail lifted over his spine, miniscule paws moving slowly. Lowering his frame ever so slightly though he doesn't need to. He's tiny enough as is. Closer, closer, keep to the shadows. Watch, wait, hold his breath. Another foot closer, paws delicately moving over dying grass and malleable sticks. Shifting through the shadows like a feline stalking prey until he's closer enough. Hovering near a tree trunk, eyes placed directly on the girl, unblinking, body unmoving. Silent, unspeaking. She's... beauty, not like his siblings, different. New. Something in him hungers to know her. Gourami Klein

She stood by the water's edge, her reflection shimmering back at her from the tranquil surface, and found herself lost in a world of her own making. With a practiced smile and subtle tilt of her head, she experimented with the delicate art of expression, molding her features into a few quick successions of pleasant smiles and careful innocence.

“Hello, Nice to meet you,” She murmured to her reflection, her voice barely more than a whisper against the gentle rustle of the willow leaves. “How have you been?” The soft, impossibly soft yet so clear wordage lingered in the air – a question without answer as she continued her rehearsal. Her eyes, like pools of molten silver, mirrored the flickering light of the fireflies that danced among the branches overhead. Yet, despite the beauty that surrounded her, that she was, there was a detachment in her gaze as she turned away from the water. Her lips set in a hard line.

“It's not nice to meet you. I don’t care how you’ve been.” She muttered, her voice filled with distaste as she continued. “Emotions. Expressions. Stupid, annoying. Too much. Too many.” It was a routine she had grown accustomed to now, but she hated it. If she stopped though? Then she would lose the praises that came with being such a nice, pretty, perfect girl. Impossible. “Infuriating,” She hissed, her lips curling into a faint frown as she imagined the ceaseless pleasantries. They never stopped.

But among the chorus of the night's sounds, a quiet serenity enveloped her as a gentle wind carried the scent of earth and foliage to her delicate nose. But then… a presence, a scent, and maybe… a – a gaze that lingered on her? She missed it. She slipped up. Turning her attention to the shadows, she found herself staring in search of her audience with eyes that burned with an intensity she would not be able to excuse away. They had seen her.


illu