You walk slowly, keeping your eyes on the tree line, watching for whatever is out there. You look around, keeping an eye on the surroundings. You turn back, you can still see the town in the distance. As long as you keep track of where you are, there wasn’t going to be a problem.
You walk for what seems like hours, wandering the woods, checking every trunk, nook, and cranny. Whatever has cursed your neighbour’s abode was no kind creature. It was a witch.
You try to remember the many pages of supernature. Vampires, ghosts, tulpas and thousands more. For all you know, it was likely to be a witch or a dryad. It certainly wasn’t a vampire. Definitely not a werewolf, what a ridiculous myth.
A man-wolf? Really?
You twist and turn, keeping focused.
Every screech, every squark, it makes your skin crawl. You walked into a place you truly are not welcome.
The goosebumps on your arms form points as your hair stands on edge. You try brushing away the thin needles, rubbing your shoulders to warm yourself up.
The cold wind doesn’t help. Every time it blows, it whistles, an eerie whistle that masks the sounds of the forest.
Something brushes against your leg, quickly disappearing.
You stop in your tracks.