Clouds obscured the moon. Everything was an ocean of blackness. She crept through the underbrush, disregarding eyesight for the enhanced senses of the predator. Of course, she was far from a majestic wolf, and far from practiced in her mannerisms, but always she’d been far more feral and predatory than was natural. A dead snake hung from her jaws, limply swaying with each step.
Despite the hour, Elvira had always ensured that her way and her whims were met without conflict from anyone—even her own mother. Perhaps the collie hoped that some stray monster would snatch her up and steal her away into the night. Her yellow eyes shone like embers when the moon finally crept from hiding. She moved out into the open, heading toward the entrance to the manor.
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