Lone Alpha of Full Moon Forest

A night terror

The moonlight draped the land of Eldoria in a shimmering light, casting a silvery glow upon the towering trees and the gently waving grasses as a gentle breeze passed by. The wolf, his fur shimmering with ethereal light, moved with a silent elegance through the open field. Each step was a graceful dance, his powerful paws barely making a whisper against the land. The night air was charged with anticipation as the wolf followed Isabella's scent. A quickened breath betrayed the excitement he felt, picking up the intoxicating scent of the woman's musk that lingered in the breeze. The village slumbered in the quietude of the early hours, oblivious to his intimidating presence as he weaved his way through the moonlit veil.

On the outer edges of the village, a humble cottage beckoned him, flowers and herbs planted in regimented rows surrounding it. This was hers's, he could taste her sweat in the air. He approached, spying a window propped open ever-so-slightly and, checking for spying eyes, he began to transform. Silent whispers and a chorus of unseen forces guided the wolf through his changing. It started with a subtle ripple, a tremor beneath his fur, as if the moonlit rays themselves possessed transformative magic. His eyes glowed with an intense light, mirroring the moon's radiance.

The wolf's shape blurred, contours melting like wax. Moonlight wove through the process, each beam leaving a trace of ethereal stardust on the transformed form.

The final moment held a suspended breath- the wolf's silhouette shimmered, and then, in a burst of silver light, a man emerged. Tall and lean, naked and coated in shimmering sweat, his features held an uncanny resemblance to the majestic creature he once was.

His snow-white hair cascaded like waves around his shoulders, and his eyes, now human, still carried the mystery of the night.

The man moved with ease through the window as he held it open and stood in the dark cottage. His senses, honed by his wolf, absorbed the room's essence. His eyes, retaining a hint of untamed wilderness, fell upon Isabella, asleep in her bed.

As he moved silently through the room, a shimmer of stardust trailed in his wake, evidence of the transformation that occurred. He approached Isabella with the caution of a predator who had learned to appreciate the vulnerability of his prey. His hand gently traced the curve of her cheek - reigniting the connection that was forged in the sacred clearing earlier that night. They both shuddered.

The man's eyes held a mixture of regret and fascination as he observed her nightmares unfold on her face.

In the world of dreams, Isabella stood once more in the clearing of the Full Moon Forest. The wolf was there, his form magnificent, but this time murder glinted behind his eyes. Then the forest twisted into a realm of terror, shadows whispered secrets that sent shivers through her sleeping form.

An intruder to her dream, the man felt a sense of responsibility and withdrew his hand from her face. He could not comprehend the connection between them. Did she feel it too?

The man's presence in the cottage was a silent vigil. He wandered throughout the cottage, his gaze swept over the fragments of her life. Personal items that spoke of a solitary existence, of a woman connected to nature. In a drawer near her bed, he discovered a piece of clothing, delicate and intimate. Soft and blue. Bringing it to his nose, he inhaled deeply, stirring the wolf's primal instincts as the scent of the woman entered him. With a sense of both longing and possession, he held the garment in his fist- a keepsake of this night. His pupils enlarged, his eyes glinted black and his breath quickened. He looked once more towards the form of the woman with chestnut hair. He noticed the peak of her n****e through the thin blanket and felt himself harden in unison. He looked down at himself and was amused to see the rhythmic twitching of his stiffening member. He clenched his teeth. He had to leave now, or his wolf would pounce. He strode over to the open window, placed the garment in his mouth and, with a soft growl, jumped out with ease. A flash of silver light signalled his departure in the form of a wolf.

Isabella's dreams plunged further into chaos, the moonlit clearing in the forest twisted into a horrific sickness. The wolf was gone. Dark, leathery, skeletal creatures born of her worst fears, tore through the trees and thicket after her. They followed her home as she ran. Her screams tore through her lungs and her legs strained to carry her further. Suddenly, she appeared in her cottage, standing at her door looking out. Confused, she looked around. Where were they, did they follow her? Then she saw dismembered limbs sprawled across the footpath leading to her cottage. The air echoed with haunting screams as the village succumbed to the creatures of nightmare. The shadows of destruction danced with malevolence. A tug on her hair spun her around, inside her cottage standing behind her was a monster. It's jaw opened unnaturally wide as it sunk it's teeth into her face.

Suddenly, Isabella jolted awake, her scream cutting through the nightmare's symphony. Beads of sweat clung to her forehead as she gasped for breath. The room, once tranquil, now held a sinister air. Her gaze darted around, searching for the source of the unease that lingered like a haunting melody.

Reality collided with her senses, and Isabella's eyes widened in horror. Blood stained the floor near her front door, which was wide open, and a macabre trail led towards the footpath that she had looked out onto in her nightmare. Panic gripped her heart as her eyes followed the crimson path, her mind racing with unanswered questions.

The world seemed to hold its breath, whispering of the screams she heard in her sleep. She crawled out of bed and wandered to the door. Trembling hands reached for the blood-stained floor by her door, her fingers brushing the crimson evidence. Fear and confusion mingled within her. What had done this?

The rising sun, a silent witness to the unfolding scene, cast its warm glow through the open door. With the sun's touch, the red puddle sizzled and bubbled as if being boiled. She fell back and witnessed something she had never seen before, the macabre scene disappeared before her eyes as if cleansed by the sun. It's only remnants, the smell of iron in the air.

Seconds turned into minutes as she sat there aghast.

"You alright there, love?" came a voice from above her. She moved her gaze upwards and saw Mrs Baker peering through the door. Isabella shook her head and pushed herself up. Now standing, she nodded "Oh, yes, I'm fine. I..I must have fallen... I'm not sure."

She looked at Mrs Baker who appeared concerned and smiled. "Yes, sorry. How can I help, Mrs Baker?"

The older lady smiled back and wiped her hands on the apron she wore around her large stomach. "I was hoping you would be able to help me. You see, my husband nicked his hand while chopping wood yesterday and I would feel an awful lot better if I could use some of your healing poultice. To help mend it. If you would be so kind?"

"Yes, of course, wait right there, and I'll put some in a bandage for you." Isabella rushed to her herb cupboard and pulled out the required ingredients. She was a skilled herbalist, though others in the village called her a healer or a witch, depending on how they felt about her.

She finished the poultice and gave Mrs Baker instruction on how to use it.

She had waved the lady goodbye and made herself a cup of tea, and had been contemplating last night's events. When she thought about the wolf in the clearing, how it appeared in her dream last night before the night terror began. She felt the urge to go back to the clearing, as if she had forgotten something but couldn't place what it was she'd forgotten.

If she was to go again, she thought, she would be prepared. She would pack food and bring her sketchbook. Yes, she would go back, she decided. But this time she would go in the daylight. She didn't feel comfortable going back at night after her nightmare.

And so she packed her bag and changed into clothes suitable for adventure. She frowned when she looked for her favourite underwear, a pair of soft blue knickers, and they were missing. Strange, she mused. She would look later.

She pulled on a pair of brown-dyed trousers and a white shirt, which had mended patches and stains but was otherwise clean and warm. She also grabbed her trusty cloak, which had deep pockets.

At the corner of her eyes, she saw a glittering shimmer on the wooden floor leading from her bed to the dining table window. She reached down towards it and swiped her fingers across it. Glitter shimmered on her fingers, like stardust. With a frown, she sniffed it and the smell of chocolate, sweet berries and subtle smoke caused her to salivate. She wiped her fingers on her trousers and, with a confused look on her face, she shrugged and left through the door of her cottage, heading towards the forbidden forest.

Her journey into Full Moon Forest had become more than a quest for mushrooms; it was a dance with destiny, a dance that promised revelations and mysteries yet to be unravelled.