Writing Practice

She blinked, the image before her vanishing.  Near where it had stood a few leaves moved, but otherwise the forest was still.  She took a deep breath, trying to ground herself once again.  The rich smell of loam and rain filled her nose.  The dark soil was soft and cool on her bare feet.  With dusk falling, color began to leach from the woods.  Trees, leaves, ground cover all took on a soft blue-gray shade.  At a distance she could hear the soft sounds of birds settling in to roost for the night and the first chirps and peeps of tree frogs warming up for their nightly serenade.  A light breeze danced down the path, carrying a hint of the sharp scent she expected.  Walking carefully, she spotted the faint tracks in the path that proved she hadn’t imagined it.  Crouching, she found another track near the verge of the trail.  Silently she slipped through the green barrier at the edge of the path and continued to stalk her prey.

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