I'm Not Shy but I Refuse to Speak

For the scarlet circle!

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Night brought a darkness near impenetrable to the haunted forest, save for the beams of moonlight that pricked through barren branches. Somewhere in the distance was a low howling, which crashed again and again against rocky shores. A drunken lullaby that stirred her mind as late winter winds drew the scuffle of leaves and ruffled the pelt of a small girl, far too young to be alone.

And yet, here she was.

Duende awoke with a shiver, her pelt blanched by the half moon above. Sleep blurred her eyes, but she could tell immediately that something was wrong. The earth beneath her was cold and rough, allowing small twigs to lodge themselves in her fur; her sides were bare— lost to the presence and warmth of her sisters and mother. By the time her eyes adjusted, she did not need to see to know.

She was alone.

However, the small sprite did not cry. Instead, the reverb of vocal cords buzzed in her throat, bringing a "mm" sound loud enough for her ears only. Duende was quick to her paws, head on swivel as she tried to make out anything familiar, but this wasn't home. Her family, her sisters— they were never separated long. Surely they were close, and so she whined, hopeful that a familiar face would come.
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A trill caught the girl's ear, unfamiliar in sound as much as the voice that carried it. Something sweet with a bite, like the small red berries that clung to mountain bush that she had only recently grown a taste for. Her ear twitched, turning swiftly to the voice as it appeared from the shadows. Duende was quick to her paws, defensive steps low as she backed a pace to watch the woman, though it wasn't fear in her eyes...the glint, while cautious, was more akin to curiosity.

The sprite's ears fell back, sharp like horns, as something foreign came on the woman's lips. Her head tilted, jutting like a bird of prey as she tried to make sense of it. Fortunately, what followed next resonated. One ear turned upright; her eyes shied to the bushes and treeline as if it would answer her question or spawn her family, but it didn't. When Duende's eyes turned back, it was with knitted brows, a pout fighting her lips offering a more solid answer.
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