Sunlight cast dramatic shadows, obscuring and blinding observers of the dense woodlands. The darkness beyond was ambiguous, but held a strong unnerving presence. Finally, the silhouette came into view, first appearing as just another tree, but the prongs of a fool’s hat were unmistakably unnatural.

His eyes penetrated through the darkness, catching what little light touched the shadows and illuminating them like two glowing lanterns… Peering right at the writing creature below the perch of the jester as crows swarmed like heralds of death.

The wolf actually appeared physically well, just…

You look like shit, he commented, tilting his head with a mocking grin that slowly spread across his face, his white teeth catching the sunlight, Did you awaken from death as I have, stranger?

If that were the case, then maybe this was the afterlife, although Cyril was beginning to doubt it was hell, because it felt like heaven. Honestly, his experience hadn’t been anything other than pleasant thus far; who knew dogs were so blessed with freedom? His senses were keener, he could run faster, and he now understood the appeal of chasing random critters through the brush.

Although it was a little annoying that he couldn’t scratch his own back anymore… Or reach his rear end.

Cyril studied the creature curiously, wondering if she spoke his language. He had yet to run into another wolflike being, but he presumed communication was obvious. If he had the same sense as one, surely he’d have the same tongue, right?

Do you speak? Cat got your tongue? he asked, then giggled hysterically, Or rather wolf?