A woman, young, stared at a camera in the pitch-black of night. The bare light of the moon scintillated upon the strands of her gold hair, a dim star that mirrored those that dwelled far aloft the sky.

She spoke now, voice harried and trembling.

“Video diary of one Michelle Harrison, one. Today, I hiked through the woods,” she took a quick breath, “and I saw a wolf.”

—

Light strode down from above, bouncing through the canopy of verdant green leaves that swayed aloft Michelle. Ahead, a wolf stood prone, unaware of her exact direction, but conscious that something was near.

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As she took notice of a large gash that bled from the scruff of its neck to the base of its tail the wolf seemed not to notice, she gagged. The thing looked like it was already in the latter stages of infection, too, puss oozing off the cuts’ edges. All in all, it was frighteningly disturbing. No animal she knew of could ignore what must be a terrible pain to such an extent.

It noticed her and bared its teeth, flashing maulers rotten and decayed with yellow filth and caked in copious amounts of blood. She saw it as an augur of her death, and knowing she could not do anything in the face of the wolf despite its grievous injuries, she simply sat as it approached. And then ran past her, its claws finding purchase on thick tree bark as it scampered up to the canopy, vanishing without a trace or huff or growl. Confused, disgusting horror washed over Michelle. Two impossible things sighted, in just a bare two minutes.