Samhain Awaits

Caught out in a cold forest far from the tavern…

Late. Cold. No lanterns shining out, sending a welcoming flickering light between the bare trees; menacing monsters now.

It is at night that the forest shows its hidden side; dark, musty, tree roots to trip over, with thoughts of ghouls behind every trunk, the patter of a wolf, gathering pace, and soon…

…the fear of that once flickering, welcoming light…is it the light the witches and druids shine, as they chant, waiting for me?

Standing still — and now the greater depths of despair…that fear of the anticipatory quietness…oh give me at least the warmth of the blood-curling wolf’s howl!

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