Twisted Trio

The moon was nigh imperceptible tonight, showcased in a painted sliver behind rumbling clouds. A storm on the horizon heralded the first monsoon of the season. Beneath the fir boughs a wolf stood silent, nose working to scent the severity of what lay ahead. It would flood the banks of the river his pack was named after. Depending on how bad it got the bridge might end up washing out. It would be prudent to plan for the worst now before they were cut off from the rest of the world. With a low growl the wolf turned to lope along the edge of the forest, keeping close beneath the deep shadows.

Though the majority of those in Black River were like him it wouldn't do to scare the humans still unaware of the supernatural edge of their neighbors.

Stepping out onto an abandoned stretch of road leading to town he paused to glance across the bridge heading out. Here the forest behind him was utterly silent as if the world had been abandoned. A thrum trilled through the air. Even without his otherworldly senses the wolf could tell something was wrong. Not even the birds dared come this way; the creatures beneath the dirt entirely absent. It was dangerous, this silence. Pregnant with an expectation he was unfamiliar with the wolf hesitated moving further into the road.

A sudden mournful cry broke the silence, sending the dusky-furred carnivore to crouch low defensively. Whipping around he took stock of where the other wolf sounded from before answering with a cry of his own. The pack was mobilizing. Something must've happened back at town that had the rest in a tizzy. It was time to head home.

Just as he turned to lope back into the forest, however, the silence was broken by the sound of car tires crunching along the old road. The wolf instinctively took cover in the tall grass along the embankment, sinking low to avoid being seen. Headlights pierced the gloom to herald a stranger crossing the bridge. At least, he assumed it to be a stranger. What self-respecting Black River resident would be entering town at this time of night? Small as it was, everyone knew everyone's business. And so far as he was aware none had left in weeks.

As the car passed he took in every detail. One, it was moving slowly, perhaps 35 miles an hour. Its occupant was conscious, then, of how dangerous wildlife could be on the road at night. Second, the car was older. Rust was starting to show on the bottom and the car was boxier than the new model anythings. Third, the occupant was a lone woman. Piled high with boxes in the back and side seats she was on her own driving into town. The wolf turned his attention down the road questioningly but no car ever followed her. By herself completely then.

In the midst of his musing another cry pierced the air, prompting him to jump up and jet back into the forest. They were looking for him now, meaning he was probably the last one left to gather. It had been worth taking the extra few minutes though. The alpha would want to know about their new resident and the troubling feeling that heralded her arrival.