The footsteps approaching along the narrow path were almost too quiet to hear. A mere, soft pattering of leather shoes against loose soil. A thin cloak of black velvet concealed the slender figure so that she melted into the deepening twilight shadows beneath the trees.
She could see the tall shape long before she drew near the cottage. Her steps slowed to a halt before she entered the dim pool of light cast by the solitary lantern hanging beside the door. "What is it?" Her voice was like a feather, soft and airy, nearly carried away by the night's breeze.
"You did not keep your promise." The responding voice from the towering silhouette was a low, hoarse growl, thick with rage.
The black garbed woman beheld him quietly. Her pale hands held her cloak at her throat. "You know what you agreed to," she replied.
"But you promised!" The man spat the words out in a snarl, half choked with anguished rage. He took a lumbering step towards her.
"My promise was kept," she murmured softly. A faint step carried her backwards as he moved forwards. "You know what you signed. The contract is binding." She turned and waved a hand gracefully towards the path leading away from the house. "You may go now."
"No," he blurted out in a tone vastly changed. Frantic instead of wrathful. "You must help me!" His hands were held out in a pleading fashion.
"Goodnight, Mister Sutton," she answered, still turned with her hand gesturing away from the cottage and towards the dark wood.
The man clenched his hands into fists. A strange sound rose in his chest, akin to a growl, but rather more like an utterance of pain. He lurched forward and passed her, so closely that the wind of his movement fluttered the hem of her cloak and tousled her dark hair.
She remained still until he had vanished into the shadows, though her eyes followed after him. Once all was quiet again, she ascended the porch steps, entered the house, and locked the door securely behind herself.
