The unpleasant nightmare she had not only left a rather bad taste in her mouth, but left her panting on the bed as well. As Grace sat on the edge of the mattress, a depressive anxiety, hidden in the darkness of the small room, began to embrace the young brunette, almost penetrating into her fair skin to find its way into her racing heart. Similar to the acidic rain droplets in her terrifying dream, her sweat ran down her slim body, wetting her thin clothes and further blurring her already deranged mind. Her shallow breaths disturbingly whistled in the quiet room, irregular motion of her lungs putting the distinct pair of orbs on her chest in a loop of heaving and depress. Her fingers clenched the inferior bed sheets, stronger than her husband had ever made her do. Already struggling to keep herself sane, she had long convinced herself that it was more than a mere nightmare what she had seen. There was something terribly wrong within her flesh, or perhaps it was this moody town that had been the troubling source of her escalating distress.<br/><br/>Bare feet of the woman hurried out of the room, to escape this claustrophobic confinement. Not caring what she felt under her soles any longer, or what she wore, Grace rushed downstairs. “Owen! Owen!” Her pitched voice resounded within the walls of the inn, calling out to its new host. Her breaths still a whistle, she clawed on his chest upon the man’s confused presence towering before her. “I can’t breathe! I can’t breathe!” She shouted with widened eyes, hoping for the help of the soul she had unintentionally agonized with the death of his family. As the panic continued to devour her mental sanitation, the cowboy brought her outside the building so that she could fill her lungs with air other than the one in the inn she deemed toxic. Albeit being a bit chilling, fresh air and the faux lustrousness of the moon did her good, bestowing a short term relaxation upon the awed woman. Her slender digits too relaxed soon, her gaze however, remained sharp and perturbed. “Take me away. Get me out.” Grace managed to utter her wish.<br/><br/>Further discussions were in vain. Certainly not dressed for a journey through wilderness, Grace’s half covered form still sprang up and down on the back of a brown horse. Her arms hugging the rider from behind, her chest pressing against his back. Lunar gloss painted a brightness to the black of her waving hair. “Wait.” Grace pleaded as a familiar carriage attracted her attention on the field. It was a modest vehicle, far from being a glorified transport. A cart a lot older and cheaper than what the young woman was accustomed to ride, but so was the small town she had found herself in. It was the one she had arrived in town. She displayed enough persistence to convince her confused escort to pause. The man helped her off the horse. The earth a little damp under her feet, it almost felt like it was inviting the young brunette in itself. Horse of her old carriage had been long gone, an empty flask lying on the ground where it used to stand. Grace cautiously circled around the lifeless cart, her twitching eyes searching for a rotten sight.<br/><br/>Upon finding the dark imagery she sought, the woman looked up in the dark sky to avert her gaze. By then, as if it had been disturbed by the graceless scent of death itself, the horse she rode here betrayed its owner and fled away and out of sight. Amazed eyes of Grace watched a falling star. Her eyes tracked its arc in the sky, to find more little stars before her, shining and glittering at her. The woman stared at the little stars, and the glowing eyes of the beasts of the dark glared back at her. Distant snarls announced a prey. Increasing growls daunted the woman’s company. The man’s concerned glance shifted between the woman and glowing eyes in the distance with the rightful fear of being torn, pierced, moldered and bitten off.<br/><br/>“You mad? Those are not stars!”<br/><br/>“Assume they are.”