Ettore | ✔️

𝑬𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒏

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𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑪𝒖𝒔𝒑 𝑶𝒇𝑨 𝑵𝒆𝒘 𝑩𝒆𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈

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Every coo, every snap, every rustle.

Had Syretia on high alert.

The forest was dense and dark. Even the beam of the flashlight barely sliced through the darkness. She was seriously debating on just turning the flashlight off and allowing her eyes to adjust to the darkness and letting the moon's light guide her around.

Syretia zipped up her white and coral pink windbreaker as a gust of wind blew against her. The branches from trees hung overhead began to swish and the trees began to creak. The breeze relentlessly whipped her dirty blonde hair around, annoying her to point that she just wanted to chop it all off. She wished that she had a hairpiece to pull her hair back.

Sniffling as she felt moisture begin to gather at the point of her upturned nose, her gaze shifted to a rustling she heard parallel to where she had been walking. Anxiously, she turned around in the full circle, her gaze never wavering as she refused to blink not wanting to miss anything. Coming up with nothing she returned to her moseying along the path, unable to shake away the feeling of being watched.

CRUNCH

She whipped around at the sound, her heart beating a mile a minute. She released a breath as the light illuminated a doe just as frightened as her. The doe's ear twitched before she bowed her head again and resumed munching on the vegetation. Syretia shakily turned back around and continued on her way.

The dense trees overhead began to slightly thin out as the sound of rushing water began to fill her ears. Early on in her searching, she called Ettore's name a few times but then she got scared that she'd attract unwanted attention so she had gone back to being quiet, the only noise coming from her boots on the forest ground and her erratic breathing she was trying her best to keep under control.

"Syretia!"

She stopped in her tracks and listened.

"Syretia!" A deep voice hollered again. Everything went silent again and after a few minutes of nothing, she shrugged it off as her own imagination. She began to climb onto a log that had fallen across the river. She stood up, slightly wobbly as I put one foot before the other. She looked down at the river that had carved through the ground about six feet below the log, gulping nervously. She lifted my foot to take another step but instead, found a slippery place on the log and slipped.

Of course, she, of all people, would slip.

It felt like slow motion, as she fell, but she had been quick enough to grab onto the slightly soggy bark. She tried to pull herself up, wiggling her legs around trying to give herself more momentum from the motion. At this point, she would've rather fallen into the water at least then she could've tried to climb up the mud which would've been easier for her noodle arms. Plus, she would've already been in the water, now she was just prolonging the inevitable. She felt the log jostle after the sound of something landing on it filled her ears. She looked up but couldn't see anything, her flashlight's beam was flickering in the water below. She felt fur brush against her face as something latched onto the back of her jacket and hoisted her up into the sitting position on the log.

Syretia looked over to see silver eyes and a light gray pelt that was illuminated by the silver rays of the moon.

Darrin.