Anyone's welcome to join. Wrote this thing at 2 am ahd had a hoot doing it. Time is set just after the sun sets, during the spooky time of twilight

A somber hush had fallen over the dense forest, creeping in over the trees with the broken shafts of dull moonlight that managed to filter through the thick canopy. The sun had set long ago, the song of the birds and the choir of the insects had fallen with it. Something stalked the forest though. Silver eyes, matches by dark streaks of grey along the large obsidian body occasionally came into view when the figure passed by the rays of glowing light. The silent wraith was surrendered by an otherworldly fog rolling up from the ground and swirling around his legs.

Daesamar held his breath, his heart racing with every step he took, moving deeper and deeper into the Murkwood. The yearling had finished his duties early and had discovered this strange section of the forest from above. Young and eager to prove himself he had set up a challenge for himself. To spend the night in this frightful place. The silence was deafening, leaving him alone with nothing but his own thoughts. He had heard no evidence of another living creature since the inescapable cloak of the night had fallen over the Relic Lore.

The adrenalin pumped through his veins, sharpening his senses, his fur standing on edge. Flinching at echoing snap of a twig. He sucked in a breath and froze mid-step. The minutes dragged by, he strained his ears trying to listen. His view was obstructed by the bank of mist leaving it impossible to see more than a few feet in front of him.

Ra, Ra, Ra

The raspy croak was sudden and echoing all around the forest. The young wolf’s eyes widened in fear, an icy chill ran through his blood. He looked around slowly but he was unable to locate where the noise had originated from. The noise repeated itself. Quickly Daesamar took a step backward, looking up into the trees.

The was SOMETHING on the baren snow-laden branch. It was some kind of bird he though, assuming that whatever it was had been alive. His mouth tasted like sandpaper when he swallowed. His eyes never left the unearthly figure silhouetted by the pillar of silvery moonlight. It croaked again, raising its appendages. One was smooth and slender, resembling a bird’s wing. The other...the other was twisted, it partially resembled a wing near the thing’s shoulder and halfway down, then it sudden twisted into an unnatural position. A fearful whine escaped the wolf as he stumbled backward, pressing his back against the broad smooth trunk of a tree.