The Glow of Blackened Fur

I.

The wolf lived with the mangled witch for many winters. Every day he dreamed of escaping and today was finally that day. Today the witch was careless. As the wolf bolts through the cracked front door of the run down shack it finds itself cold and alone in an unrecognizable, snow covered forest of dead trees and glaring eyes. He looked back at the dilapidated shelter to see the faint outline of the witch staring at him from the doorway with her hands gripping either side of the frame.
The wet and rotted wood splintering and giving way as she dug her long, old nails deep into its surface. Her eyes glowed with a sickly orange, nearly red color that illuminated the ground before her. It was a way to taunt him. That glow used to be his. Bright and beautiful but now stolen and tainted. He could barely make out her features but could see she was smiling, impossibly wide with her jagged teeth that seemed sharper in this moment. Her breath had emitted fog from the cold as her hoarse yet firm voice began to form words. "If you run now only death awaits" she screamed at the wolf. The noise shaking the trees and vibrating in his ears.
The shadows from within the structure started to bend and move towards the wolf. Stretching over the dead grass as it crawled and reached for him. Before he could react the shadow had formed a dagger like point and pierced the wolf, breaking off from the rest of the mass as he turned to escape into the darkness of the woods.