Soggy Ghost

A solitary bird of prey flew above, and Sybil watched the bird dance with glazed eyes. She found
some peace in observing its movements, bored mind transfixed on it as it swooped.

A shadow on ground level snatched her attention away, shattering her meditation as her gaze
darted to the fog, muscles ready to spring her away like a frightened hare. She stood her ground,
waiting for a better look as the fog birthed a fearsome silhouette, moving towards her. A wolf, one
who had yet to notice her.

Their obliviousness was short lived as she saw them freeze, and she was surprised to hear a gasp.
Did she scare them? It was hard to pick up much detail due to fog and distance, but she thought it
safe to assume so. She rose to her feet, slowly, making no sound, blue eyes still focused on the
other canine. If they thought her a ghost, than she’d neither confirm or deny the fact. She reveled
in the feeling once again, of being formidable and unknowable. Gods, she loved the fog.

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