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Black Ghost

Three (2/2)

The black wolf appeared in her dreams the next following nights. He always repeated the same thing: Angry, angry, angry you are. I will help. Let me help. His voice was nonexistent, sounding like the breathy wind itself, and yet without even seeing his lips move to form the words that he repeated, Quiet knew that those words were what he was saying. And it scared her.

The longer that the ominous wolf hung around in her mind, the more frustrated she grew. No one would try and listen, try and read her lips or watch her motions to try and decipher what she was saying. Not even her own mother. Her perfect cousins, Elegant and Grace, barely acknowledged her existence, much less wanted to sit while she flailed around and tried to mouth the words of her anxiety. The black wolf was the only one who listened, the only one who was willing to wait patiently as she worked out how to mouth the words properly so that others could understand. And he had the very same problem, lacking a voice so instead needing to speak entirely through body language. It was hard to think about anything other than her mysterious acquaintance. She knew that it was wrong to speak with him, to seek him out when she went on a walk through the woods. And yet… although she knew that it was wrong, it felt so, so right.

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