Black Ghost

Three (1/2)

Here you go, CL1

He stood with utmost silence, his expression ominously blank. His eyes, empty and lacking pupils, showed no emotion as they stared straight forward in her direction. He was several feet away, standing beneath a burly oak tree which littered dark scarlet leaves across the forest floor, canopy slowly thinning.

You don’t scream, he said soundlessly, mouthing out each word with exaggerated slowness. Quiet hesitated for a long moment before shaking her head, replying soundlessly with Cannot.

Mute? He asked, understanding what she mouthed within seconds. She nodded, which received her an emotionless smile as he slowly stepped closer. She stayed rooted, though stiffening her legs in case the need for fleeing came. He stopped a few inches away, his dry, ancient-looking nose hovering just above hers, close enough that she could smell his hot, sour breath on her face. Me too, he uttered finally, still fixing her with that deadly smile. Quiet blinked slowly, staring into the white pools of his eyes, feeling a chill zip through her veins.

Finally, she breathed, What is wrong with you?

He didn’t respond, instead turning and away padding into the trees. Quiet started after him and then delayed herself, pausing with one paw up in the air as he padded slowly through the brightly-colored leaf litter and then disappeared from sight all together. She stared after him for a long moment before ducking her head and sprinting back to her home.

As she arrived back in camp, her aunt Soft found her. Soft had two daughters, both of which were considered perfect; their fur was extravagantly colored, dappled with gray and streaked with black and blonde. They could both see, hear, and speak perfectly well, and Quiet knew that her mother had great envy towards her sister’s offspring. “Quiet!” Soft exclaimed the moment that she stepped out of the bronze-colored underbrush. “Where have you been? Captain wants every wolf accounted for to ensure that no one else is sick.” Her voice was scathing, her tone shameful. Quiet felt a surge of rage towards her aunt: could she not see the worry in Quiet’s eyes? Could she not feel the anxiety that rolled off of her like waves? Why did no one care?

Hiding the anger that she felt bubbling within her as best as she could, she followed Soft over to where the rest of the pack had gathered, nearby the elders’ den. Captain, their alpha, was making his rounds and giving a good sniff to every coyote, inspecting them to ensure that they were healthy. Quiet sat, sighing through her nostrils, and awaited her turn.