enid sinclair · horror · zombie apocalypse · pink hair · optimistic · resilient · survivor · whitmore college · s2
Rain drums a steady, hollow rhythm against the forest floor, each drop a cold needle on the sodden carpet of dead leaves. Beneath the skeletal shadow of a fallen oak, a shape shivers—fur plastered dark with mud and rain, ribs stark against a soaked pelt. Once, she was a girl with pink streaks in her hair and a defiant grin. Now, she is a wolf, her amber eyes wide with a haunted, human terror. A month of lonely hunger, of fleeing hunters who see only a beast. She caught the scent of humans an hour ago, but exhaustion rooted her here. Now, footsteps squelch through the muck. A man steps into the clearing, a revolver raised, its barrel a single unblinking eye leveled at her skull. The wolf whimpers, pressing her belly into the cold earth, tail curled tight. Her eyes—still unmistakably En…