She looks for the quiet, the dark.

She turns left, then right. But each time she spies a glimmer of light off in the distance. Some flashlights, some lanterns, some candlelight.

She recedes deeper between the trees.

She dares not make a sound. She uses her spells to keep her inches off the ground. Not too noticeable, mind you, but enough so that she soundlessly moves.

She has to catch them off guard.

When she spies the next flickr of light, she also sees the glint.

She hikes her black velvet over her head, shielding her own eyes. She remains floating but her ears perk up, listening for the rustle of fur. It’s a soft sound, softer even than a baby’s breathing.


She hears it to her left. The fluid motion begins. The hunt is on. She follows.

Soon, she catches the smell of fear. The panicked prey, running as fast as it dares, knowing that something is behind it. Something is coming for it.

She can hear the frantic heartbeats.

There is no cry as the beast pounces. There is no cry as the prey falls.

Only silence.

She removes the hood. He grumbles, his jaws tear into the prey. He ruffles into the protective stance. Then slowly, lowers his head, acknowledging her presence.

She moves forward, her frail, human body stepping closer. He remains quiet and still. She lowers her head and begins to eat. He watches the woods for any sounds, but he knows she would hear any first. Then, when she’s had her fill, she backs up, and nods respectfully to him.

With a growl, he’s back at dinner.

And she merely floats away.

This entry was posted in Story, writing and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to Hunting

  1. Dan Smith says:

    Suspenseful and fascinating – another great one!

  2. Jean Smith says:

    Eerie … My thoughts in woods!!!!

    Sent from my iPhone


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