<span style="font-style: italic">â€œMiddling monsters died at the point of pitchforks, burned with torches, or at the butt of silver-capped canes wielded by angry, geriatric Poles. Middling people were dime-a-dozen, emptied souls, shorn sheep, human husks. A good monster didnâ€™t worry about what it was doing; it just did it. A true predator didnâ€™t worry about guilt, or being popular, or anything. It just cruised along, living for the kill, surviving. A good person, well, sheâ€™d put a bullet in her head or weigh her feet down and throw herself into the Chicago River, holding her breath until she went to the sludgy, filthy bottom, and had to open wide and breathe water until she died.â€ </span><br/>â€• D.T. Neal, Samantha<br/><br/>â€œWhat was that?â€ the whisper cut through the chirping crickets and halted the night forest to a deadened silence.<br/><br/>â€œI didnâ€™t hear anything. Whatâ€™s wrong, are you scared?â€ the youth teased his companion. Such a jest hit the heart of the young man as his pride was marred by the vicious slander.<br/><br/>â€œIâ€™m not scared, I just thought I heard something,â€ he protested profusely; although as quietly as possible demonstrating his wariness of the situation. The silence began to creep through his veins. â€œStill, we shouldnâ€™t be out hereâ€¦â€<br/><br/>â€œIf you are really that afraid then you should just turn around and go home,â€ he chided with a mocking tone; disgusted at the fact his friend was so apprehensive of trees and roots all because the sun didnâ€™t shine above. He rolled his eyes dramatically to emphasize his point. He could see the fear in his companionâ€™s face. The blood had all but gone from his face making the pale visage akin to a ghost. Â The defiant youth laughed. â€œWow you really are---â€œ<br/><br/>The voice cut short by the rough crescendo of a growl was escalated into screams as a maw full of sharpened ivory blades shredded through the collar bone as the massive beast brought the young man down to the forest floor with a sickening crunch that crackled from beneath his skin. Its fur was thick and as black as coal, and its jaws dripped with foul slobber mixed with the warm blood of its victim. It was the eyes that kept the other paralyzed; one white as if it were blind, and the other feral amber.<br/><br/>He struggled to move but could not lift a foot from where he stood. As the beast gnawed his friend into a childhood memory, it watched him. He could have sworn it; that the beast was looking directly into his eyes as it shredded the carcass. He wondered what it was thinking; if it could have possibly been saving him from something else in the wood. It hadnâ€™t attacked him, and he could conceivably view himself as a threat the monster. Summoning up all his will he took a step forward on this assumption. He realized his mistake all but too late as the claws came out and sliced his arm almost down to the bone. It was then that the youth ran wildly back towards the center of town; leaving the wolf to its meal. He ran on the clip of the piercing howl that sang its deed throughout the night sky.<br/><br/>---<br/><br/>â€œHere you are,â€ Eva commented softly with a tightening of her lips. She inspected the bandages over the young man's arm. â€œYou are lucky you are alive, let alone the fact that the bone didn't shatter. For all the warnings you were given you are now suffering the price. Why did you go out there?â€ Her jade eyes flashed as she stood from the stool leaving the young man room to stand and make his way towards the door to escape her scolding should he so choose to do so.<br/><br/>â€œWe...just wanted to see for ourselves. What was out there...â€<br/><br/>She scoffed. â€œThe arrows in the fields and the howls in the night sky don't tell you enough? The last hunting party that went out never came back. What difference did you think you could make?â€<br/><br/>â€œIt was watching me. I think it was taunting me...â€<br/><br/>Eva expelled a heavy sigh and put her fingertips to her forehead. â€œGo home, rest, and be thankful that your heart still beats unlike your companion's. I've been called away for a bit but don't bathe with those bandages or the salve will run and you risk infection. When I return I will have another look at it. Do not take off that bandage for anything in the world. The antiseptic should allow you to keep your arm, unless you plan on going out once more into the wilderness.â€<br/><br/>He hung his head. â€œYes, ma'am.â€ He headed out the door. Eva shook her head and looked in the mirror for a moment before heading into the upstairs of her shop. She readied herself for the dreaded folded letter laying stranded on her side table. Eva settled the final pin into her hair in an attempt to tame the silken curled tendrils into perfection before passing out the doorway of the shop and into the gentle winds. She exhaled deliberately in an attempt to expel this distaste of being pulled away from her work and her life for this task. She tucked the folded letter into the leather bound satchel at her hip; secured beneath her embroidered cloak. As she made her way through the town she exchanged pleasantries with passerby. Most of those who crossed her path she knew, and the ones that she didn't, knew her.<br/><br/>It wasn't far to the tavern and easily travel-able by foot; and she took her time getting there to stop occasionally to speak with another villager or find the latest happenings that the wound-dressing had made her miss. She opened the door and proceeded to the attention of the inn keep. She smiled warmly, and the innkeep's face brightened. â€œEva Kahn,â€ remarked the inn keep. â€œNow what can I do for you?â€<br/><br/>She took the folded letter out of her pocket and meticulously unfolded every edge outward before placing it before him. That wonderfully enchanting smile never faded from her face. â€œWell, you see this letter was delivered to me requiring my services,â€ she let out a soft sigh. â€œI take it the heavy built man in the back smelling of ale and overcooked meat?â€<br/><br/>The inn-keep chuckled. â€œYou never miss a thing, do you?â€ He made a motion. â€œNever knew your sense of smell was so good either.â€<br/><br/>She laughed charmingly. â€œLet's be honest, what man doesn't?â€ She winked and turned towards where her destiny lay. It wasn't hard keeping the polite smile upon her face; and she certainly carried herself with the grace of a noble towards the table. Holt was there, along with another man.<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">â€œSo, who's buying the first round?â€</span><br/><br/>â€œI was hoping to discuss the contents of this letter first prior to, for those who choose to partake,  losing sense to intoxication and indulgence of drink. However, if,â€ her eyes trace down to the half empty flagon in front of Holt, but she keeps her pleasant smile and melodic voice. â€œIt is necessary to wet your throat prior to discussion,â€ her eyes shift towards Sydney. â€œI can buy you gentleman a drink,â€ eyes look back towards Holt as she sits on the edge of a seat. â€œAlthough forgive me sir,â€ directed towards Holt. â€œBut I believe you would not be in need of another unless by my services you were referencing something entirely different than what I had inferred.â€ She set the letter down on the table; looking like a delicate rose taken out of her proper place in the garden; yet knowing how to stick those thorns in all the right places.