As you stand there, you wonder.
What color are his eyes? Are they the color of gold? The color the high noon sun that peeks through the tree leaves?
Has he been wandering this forest without caring for himself?
Has he been waiting for your appearance like a special guest in a long-advertised performance?
But as you stand there, wondering, you're too slow to act.
He runs.
He jumps.
He knocks the wind and whatever strength you thought you had, out of you.
He weighs you down like a ball-and-chain.
He claws at your chest.
His fangs dig into your throat like you dig into a roasted chicken.
And as you lie there, your life being ripped away, you wonder. What color are his eyes? Are they the color of gold? Are they the color of the high noon sun that peeks through the tree leaves?