What Lurks in the Shadows?
06-29-2024, 03:09 AM
With the last traces of daylight waning, Sericea found herself in a part of Polar Sound she didn't recognize. Her heart drummed in her chest as she padded on through the short grasses and lichens, weaving her way between the shadows cast by towering slate cliffs. Her pale green eyes darted from side to side, picking up the smallest of movements even in the looming darkness. A rustle behind her caused her fur to bristle, and she whipped around, but there was nothing but the whispering breeze and the occasional drip of melting snow from the cliff face.
"Who's there?" she barked out into the biting winter air, her voice echoing off the steep rock faces and rippling across the still waters of the inlet. The only response was her own echo dying away and the hushed murmurings of nightfall. Against her better judgment, she carried on, her paws crunching softly against the frosty grass. She was certain that if she went on long enough, she was bound to run into a familiar landmark. But the darkness of the late winter night had erased any trace of familiarity from the landscape, leaving her with nothing but a vast expanse of unbroken shadows. Yet, she could not shake off the feeling of being watched, of being followed. Her ears twitched at every sound: the howl of a distant wind, the soft rustling of the grass, the skittering of a tiny creature in the underbrush. It all fed into her growing sense of unease. “Hello!?” She called out again, her voice hoarse. Once more, the only answer she received was her own echo bouncing off the towering cliffs. She cocked her ears, straining to hear anything over the thunderous pulse of her own heartbeat.
292 / 1500 words
"Sericea Praetor-Inferos"
"Who's there?" she barked out into the biting winter air, her voice echoing off the steep rock faces and rippling across the still waters of the inlet. The only response was her own echo dying away and the hushed murmurings of nightfall. Against her better judgment, she carried on, her paws crunching softly against the frosty grass. She was certain that if she went on long enough, she was bound to run into a familiar landmark. But the darkness of the late winter night had erased any trace of familiarity from the landscape, leaving her with nothing but a vast expanse of unbroken shadows. Yet, she could not shake off the feeling of being watched, of being followed. Her ears twitched at every sound: the howl of a distant wind, the soft rustling of the grass, the skittering of a tiny creature in the underbrush. It all fed into her growing sense of unease. “Hello!?” She called out again, her voice hoarse. Once more, the only answer she received was her own echo bouncing off the towering cliffs. She cocked her ears, straining to hear anything over the thunderous pulse of her own heartbeat.
"Sericea Praetor-Inferos"