It was impossible to recognize the difference between night and day anymore, the darkness of this jungle nothing short of pitch blackness. Darkness never bothered anyone, but what lurked beyond it was the true culprit. Even in the black, bits of sky and scattered fireflies supplied enough light to display the extravagant designs of the surrounding foliage. They were so contorted and malformed that they seemed to form a single body rather than multiple plants. These trees were like aliens to the world; something out of a fairy tale, or nightmare perhaps. Their curving branches and warped configuration spewed about the woods in an erratic and unpredictable fashion. If one were used to seeing a tree grow vertically, they’d be surprised to discover that some of these trees seemed to yawn horizontally. Up and down, the trees had traversed, frozen in their slow exploration of the home they were grown in and would eventually die in. The knotted structure of this forest would amuse anyone with an equally twisted personality, and such a crooked individual was enjoying it at this very moment.

A paramount feeling, the sensation of exhilaration, fluttered through his soul. He could feel it in his bones; something great was in store for him today, something delightfully morbid and gruesome. The strange figure clacked his teeth in approval; oh yes this was a good day. Nights like this one were scarce, and when they came about he would savor each second of them. Such sensations as these were usually followed by his favorite game, or by something else, perhaps, that would excite and entertain him equally as much. Tonight he would kill, oh yes he would kill, that must have been the tangible air about him in this dark twilight. It was probably the scent of impending death on the night’s sky; how he wished he could breathe that delectable smell!

A soft breeze wisped through the trees ahead, waving through his exposed ribs and other bones. Clacking branches brought the image of dangling skeletons to mind, the rustling of the leaves striking the thought of a hearse pulling away in the distance. The wind whipped Toofy’s cockscomb back a bit, lop siding it slightly atop his skinless scalp. He didn’t care that his hat was about to fall off; in fact he couldn’t even feel it. He was too excited for any concerns other than ‘What is going to happen tonight?’

Caught by a sudden gust, a stray leaf scrambled for safety inside Toofy’s right eye socket. It took him only several seconds before he realized what it was, plucking it out before it irritated his good mood for much longer. He looked it over carefully, taking note of the lush green color and moist dew droplets visible even in the darkness. This leaf was fresh, recently plucked free. Even a wind such as this usually wouldn’t pry new leaves free. Something must have knocked it loose, whether it was an animal or some other form of life was undeterminable, but for now he’d try to keep low until—

He froze. Too late, he could see the forest’s transgressor now. An attempt to hide would only seem foolish, at this moment. Even though she was distant, he could tell she was a woman, outlined by a spot of dark blue sky in a circle of open trees far ahead. The way she carried herself was the main giveaway, however; gentle yet confident. Toofy straightened his cockscomb as if he was trying to make himself more presentable. She was quite beautiful, even from here it was obvious. Whenever he saw someone like her he’d remember the curse placed upon him, as well as the reason he was condemned by it; however, the thoughts quickly vaporized like they always did.

When her eyes fused to his empty sockets, he knew just a sample of what she was capable of. Just with that glance he could see a hint of her power, and in that same glance her guard went up, changing her stance ever-so-slightly. She saw him too, even in this pure blackness. His mind plummeted, racing suddenly at the thought of fighting in this dark, unique forest. No, he couldn’t get ahead of himself; a proper introduction might do nicely instead of attacking right away. If the woman wasn’t too frightened by his appearance, then rushing straight into a fight might be a good thing. Then again, if she was scared, he would play with that emotion a little more. She didn’t look scared, not from here, but maybe he could stir her fear a little. That was where true wars were waged: In one’s mind.

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My Friends / Quark's Art Heap