The pink shot from one tree to the next.

The lions tail waved slowly, gracefully behind it.

The vines, green and leaved, hung from the body.

The tear aqua on her face.

Surely this creature was out of place?

The russle of the forest, the silence.

The howl, the silence.

A coat of aqua thorns and rose fur shone dimly in the moonlight.

The purple mane, on a wolf?

The soft claws.

The small paws.

The flowing violet hair on the tip of the tail.

The deep pink eyes.

The unnatural swiftness.

The spirit, couldn't be?

The ghost that no-one shall see.