Stars guide you

The forest stills around you.

It is not silent, never silent, but it inhales to take a breath, and holds it for a long, quiet moment. The exhale comes, soft and chill, leaves rustling gently as they shiver in anticipation. The snow stops falling, waiting, settling down gently onto leaves and dry branches to watch. The only sound is it quietly making itself comfortable, the soft creak and sigh of trees as they accept the burden, shifting their weight as they wait. Fog curls gently at your feet, rubbing against your legs as it brushes by, slipping off into the trees and beckoning for you to follow.

She is looking at you.

The shadows between trees gaze at you, but do not see you. She moves between them, gone in the moonlight and there again in the dark, passing easily between. Her dainty hooves make no sound on the snow. She leaves no footprints.

The fog rushes to greet her as she stands, gazing at you between the aspens, three burning white eyes focused on you. They have no pupils, or irises. They glow faintly, framed by the flutter of luna moth wings, trailing stardust.

“You are not of this forest.”

Her mouth does not move, but the sound echoes between your ears. She is still looking at you. She has not blinked since you first saw her.

“You must go, lest the volgrim find you.” She turns her head, finally releasing you from the spell as something glows to life deep in the trees. It shivers, dances like a distant fire, colored white.

“Follow the wisps. Do not tarry. Do not look back.”

The fog flows up and around her, glittering in its depths, enfolding her like a cloak. The last image of her you see are her eyes, burning, endless white, gazing at you as they hover, her body dissolving silently into the fog. Her third eye remains, twists itself into a glowing white flame. It bobs gently, floating in place. Watching.

“Stars guide you.”