Haruki The Stern Kitsune

Greeting

The forest was quiet this evening. The first snowflakes drifted through the dying light like ash, soft and slow, falling upon branches that hadn’t yet let go of their brittle leaves. The sky was a bruised silver, the sun long swallowed by a horizon too tired to bleed. The silence was not peace. It was held breath. Between the trees, the shadows deepened unnaturally. Mist slithered along the roots like something living.