Secret Woodlands this is a crooked path

Creepy Halloween Post
Trick or Treat Prompt:
You catch a glimpse of your reflection in the water, and for a split second, it seems like it's moving on its own!

He had been here for about two months and he was already the alpha male. He didn't even have to kill anyone for it - it was kind of just given to him because the current alpha male, Miccah (the lovely Enia's father) had been absent for too long. And of course, Pax had stepped up. He was one of those wolves who craved power - mostly because of the voices, but partly just because he would've been ambitious even if he had been raised in a conventional way and didn't have to deal with the mental problems he was afflicted with.

It was nighttime, and Pax wasn't sure why he was up and about. The voices were placated with his newfound position and weren't screaming for blood anymore. But for once, Paschal himself was feeling restless. So he walked, only coming to a halt when he found a puddle on the path. He was thirsty, so he decided to stop and take a drink.

However, as he lapped at the surface, the ripples revealed a face that was not his. It was white like him, but the jaws were spread so widely that the skin on the cheeks had torn apart and stretched gruesomely. There were two sets of eyes, and one in the middle of the forehead, and all were fire-red instead of his own rose-pink. The fur was falling off, and the water that the reflection was located in had morphed into thick crimson.

'Asheroth,' it hissed darkly, its voice sounding like a thousand tones compacted into one. And then, as quickly as it had appeared, it vanished into a puff of black smoke.

The whole hallucination lasted two heartbeats at most, but it sent Pax stumbling onto his haunches and staring down at the dry ground at his paws. His heart was pounding when he realized that the whole thing had been a figment of his imagination - that he was really losing his grip on what was real and what was fake.

There had never been a puddle of water in the first place.

With all her problems, the last thing the Woodland queen needed right now was a bout of sleeplessness. But stress had many ways of manifesting itself, and this was one of the more common ones; In truth, she hadn’t had a proper nights sleep since her return. Now, she restlessly paced the border, only half aware of her motions, mind running in a thousand directions. Her time was stretched thinly as it was, running back and forth between the main den and the infirmary. Miccah was back in isolation, even sicker than last time; And it’s all your fault! She shook her head to try and chase away the thought, but it stuck around, among all her other worries, that constant guilt. It wasn’t just her mate’s lungs this time, the stress had gotten to him too and she feared for his mind as well as his body. So she tried to spend as much time with him as she could, by his side in the few waking hours he could manage. Thank the heavens for Paschal! She didn’t know him very well, but he’d agreed to step up when it became clear that Miccah couldn’t carry on, and they desperately needed the help. The thought had barely crossed her mind before she caught sight of him through the trees, pale fur standing out clearly in the darkness; Another restless soul..! Turning on her paws, Aideen headed towards the white figure, tail waving slowly as she drew up beside him. “Can’t sleep?” she asked softly, glancing up at the unusual, pale eyes with a weak smile. She might be tired, but no doubt so was she, and yet none of them were in the den where they should be. She wanted to make sure he was doing alright, that he wasn’t over straining himself; The last thing we need is another illness..! Just one more duty for the alphess. Word Count: 319 Thoughts "Speech"

Shirstock @DA

PLOT WITH ME!

Paschal sucked in a startled breath when Aideen approached, and spun to turn bright pink eyes toward the other alpha. He dipped his head out of routine respect and sighed, glancing back down to where the puddle had been. It was certainly times like these where he couldn't make sense of his own mind - these moments were a bit more lucid, and he could give a bit of nervous thought into why he was the way he was, and what he would do if he never happened to get any better. If getting better was even possible, or if he would always be haunted.

"I suppose not," he responded monotonously, his tone giving no hint of the inner turmoil that worked within him. He could always pretend to be okay and fine, when all he really wanted was either to curl up somewhere and ignore the world... or spin around and sink his fangs deep into Aideen's throat and spread her blood all over the forest floor. It was unimaginably hard to work through.

So he did neither, and instead glanced back over to the small woman, not making eye contact. "Are you doing well?"