averygoodun42 | Late-night guising

The wind whistled through the trees, making a hollow sound as the bare branches moved back and forth. The moon was waning in the sky, but still bright enough to see by, lending an ominous air to the path.

She picked her pace up a bit, unnaccountably nervous. She knew the path was safe, and that no creature or being in the forest would harm her, but the wind's whistle had an urgent, worrisome tone to it. She did not want to delay.

The path narrowed, with the lower branches crowding in, as if they were reaching for her. She breathed in courage, reminding herself that in the daylight, they were friendly branches, wanting to tease her, play with her. The trees had not changed with the setting sun. She had nothing to be afraid of.

Just as she forged her way through the branches, trying to keep her cloak from catching, a sharp breeze arose, making the wood groan collectively, as if an incantation had awoken them from their slumber. A branch overhead creaked, and the word 'widowmaker' came to the forefront of her mind. She hurried forward.

She wound her way through the wiry shrubs, alternating keeping her eye to the ground so as to stay on the path, and an eye above to warn of threats, be it falling branches or the storm clouds that should be gathering. She knew the path well, andd could probably follow it blindfolded, but she had no desire to play with the forest this night. She didn't think it felt particularly playful that night.

Suddenly, there was a noise that did not belong to the wood. It was false and harsh and completely alien to the soft rustles and whispers that the forest communicated with. It sounded of something breaking rather than the constant bending the wood endured.

She stopped and held her breath, unsure of where the sound came from, how close it was to her. She listened intently, but the forest was silent now. Completely silent. The wind had died away, and there were no night time rustles of owls, mice and rabbits. All she heard was the sound of her heart beating, and of her quick, shallow breaths.

She heard something rustle in the thicket to one side, but before she could gauge the distance, the wind picked up again in a gust, drowning out all sounds with its own mournful cry. She looked around, trying to interpret anything out of the ordinary in the shadows of the ranches, but nothing moved. And if it breathed, she could not hear.

Her heart was pounding in her chest, and her instinct told her to flee - run as fast as she could to the protection that was so close by. Her mind told her to stay as still as she could, to move would be to reveal her location to the foreign eyes she could feel scoping out the wood.

The wind settled down again, and she heard the noise again. It brought to mind images of claws and masks. It sounded of death.

Her instinct took over, and she hurtled through the wood, her feet flying over the ground. The wood let her pass, bending and breaking at impact rather than trying to catch her clothes upon their thorns. Her ears were full only of her own blood pulsing, and her harsh, panicked breaths as she ran from whatever fearful thing that was residing in the wood that night. She knew nothing beyond her need to get to the clearing, and to the house within the clearing.

She heard the sound again -- closer, much too close -- and she added a sob to the rushing blood and ragged breaths. Her legs and chest burned, but she knew the path would widen soon. The forest would release her soon.

And just then, the forest opened, revealing the house upon the hill. She ran as if her life depended on it, up the hill and away from the whistling branches and widowmakers. She ran as if death itself was reaching out to catch her cloak. She ran until she reached the door, too terrified to stop to knock.

She didn't stop until she was held in the bosom of safety and warmth, not alone in the wild no more.

The next morning they were told the news that evil had been released that night. They were not surprised, having seen the unfamiliar fear in her eyes the night before, but they were not worried. They were snug in their house upon the hill. They were safe.