• I awoke to perceive a cool, almost fragile silence. The only sound to penetrate the stillness was the kind of whisper a light wind makes when it sweeps through tall grass. I slowly opened my eyes to see that I was lying on my back in a prickly bed of what seemed to be long, yellow grass, staring up at the leafy branches of an ancient oak tree. I closed my eyes, feeling the fingers of a refreshing breeze touch my face, and hearing the grass rustle as the breeze stroked it. Then, I sat up, rubbing the back of my neck, which was sore from sleeping on the ground. From my position, my back leaning against the oak tree, I could see that I was sitting in a field of acres and acres of the same tall, yellow grass as my makeshift bed. It seemed to be early evening, and I could see the setting sun, washing the field with its deep, orange colors, and the darkening sky, which held a sliver of the moon, was already beginning to sparkle with small stars. Despite the breathtaking beauty of my surroundings, I felt a sickening pang of worry, because I hadn’t even the slightest recollection of my arrival there. In fact, I didn’t remember anything before waking up underneath the oak tree.

    The breeze passed again, tousling my thick, brown hair and cooling my forehead. It carried more of a chill from the oncoming night, so I took a deep, calming breath, and looked around for a way to keep myself warm. I spotted something, partially hidden by the long grass, lying at the base of the tree. It was a thick, woolen blanket that I found to be just long enough to cover my bare feet. I pulled it over my body, and watched the sun sink out of sight. The darkness that descended upon the grassland was possibly more beautiful than when the sun was still visible. The crescent moon shined with a subdued glow, and the stars twinkled and winked merrily. I burrowed under the blanket, feeling oddly at peace in my strange new home, and allowed my eyes to slide closed.

    I was about to fall asleep, when the wind picked up suddenly. It shrieked with unbridled fury like a wild beast, and shook at the old tree under which I sat, causing the large branches to creak and moan as if the tree were in pain. My blanket tugged at my arms and whipped away, billowing like a sail to disappear into the darkness. I jumped to my feet, feeling the icy wind slice through my thin cotton shirt and pants like knives. Then, as suddenly as it arrived, the wind simply stopped. After the rage and power of the wind, the abrupt silence felt unbearably frightening, and I began to shake from both fear and cold. Not long after the wind had stopped, a thick, damp fog began to roll in. It seeped into my clothing and hair, making me even colder than before. I sank to the ground, shivering uncontrollably, with my teeth clattering against each other in some kind of sick Morse code to my body. I just wanted to go home, wherever “home” was. Then, I heard the most hair-raising noise I had ever heard: a long, low, plaintive howl. It sounded like a mixture between the yowling of an injured cat, the whimper of a sick dog, and the angry growl of a wolf. I looked in the direction of that awful noise and in the fog I saw two, glowing green eyes staring directly at me. I scooted backwards, the bark of the oak tree scraping my back as I pressed into it, desperate for safety. The creature in the fog howled again, and the last thing I could hear before passing out from sheer terror was the soft sound of saliva dripping from the jowls of an animal to the ground, and shallow, labored panting.