The moon shone through the tall dark trees. A moth shone as it flittered through the moonlight. In a crack that shattered the silence, the moths soft yellow wings were streaked with black veins which spread out rapidly and the black moth crumpled like stone onto the forest floor.
From behind a tree stepped a man. His hand held out in front of him, holding an alien-looking white gun, which shone in the eerie glow of the moon. It was smoking slightly and he lowered it, looking around suspiciously, as if waiting for someone.
He wore a long crimson cloak and a black suite with a high collar. The cloak rippled slightly around his feet in a non-existent breeze. His forked tongue flickered out and licked his rotting teeth in a snake-like manner. As he stepped forward, the light fell
on his ancient face which was disfigured by a bluish scar; three deep scratches that slid down the left-hand side of his face from his hairline and curved into the corner of his mouth. His forked tongue shot out and licked some sizzling green acid which was seeping from the bottom of the scar. It left a blue stain which he wiped away with his long black sleeve.
Suddenly the silence was broken again by a scurrying in the scrub, which was rippling slightly in a path, as if something was darting along beneath the protection of the leaves.
The scampering stopped, and the leaves parted, as a shape began to grow from the undergrowth. The red fur disappeared and was replaced by olive skin. The pointed fox nose sunk into its head, which was stretching into the shape of a human skull. Finally, when the transformation was complete except for the long fluffy fox tail that flicked and swished behind him, the two men stood facing each other. The tall skinny one, with the pale skin and the blue scar, and the fox-man, with the tight jeans and leather jacket.
"Yes, it is morning." said Fossanon as the first rays of sunlight peered through the trees and hit the shiny, mirror-like surface of a crystal clear pool of water, that stood between the two men.
"I have been expecting you."
"So you have," observed Fossanon, sneering slightly. "You are no doubt to be congratulated on your ability to know the obvious."
As he said this, Fossanon, in one swift movement, pulled a gun from his back trouser pocket and shot at his enemy, Urgad. But Urgad was ready for the attack and raised his own gun at the same time. There was a click of metal as the two bullets met mid-air and reflected off each other, splitting the surface of the pool below and turning to gold dust as they did so.
"Not today Fossanon." said Urgad, and lowered his gun, but not his gaze, his sharp red eyes piercing into Fossanon, who ran his hand through the thick fur of his fox tail.
"What do you want, Urgad?" asked the fox-man, ignoring Urgad's last remark.
"I need to heal this wound before the acid spreads through my entire body." They both dropped their gaze to the tiny pool, circles still rippling across the surface where the bullets had fallen.
"The Water of Life won't help you know. I don't know what will, but those waters wont."
"And you think I'm going to not try?" sneered Urgad mockingly. He licked his scar absently and his tongue shot back into his mouth, as though burnt.
"Hurts, doesn't it?" Fossanon teased. "My girlfriend is quite the scratcher. I had best be on my way, enjoy your day Urgad, or not." with that last word, Fossanon turned into a fox again and scampered of down the slope towards the village.
Urgad carefully collected some water, which sparkled with the flecks of gold, and splashed it on his scare, which immediately began to heal slightly. The acid stopped and the blood hardened and dried. Urgad sighed and silently vowed to kill the wolf who had slashed his face with it's blood covered paw.