Wolves in the fog

A silent white frosted plane. A few sparse trees. Black velvet illuminated with stars when the thick clouds of fog gape to the sky. Crackles and sparks sizzle along the ground. Arching between scraggly little trees become electric plants with streamers of plasma for leaves.

In the distance, strange cries can be heard as the remaining rioteers, now formed into tight bands of just several men, transformed under the strong effects of this strange fog, leap across the snow and frost like lean wolves.

Their bodies now tight and electrified, they move with amazing stealth and agility.

Bounding with light strides as the ground crackles beneath them.

Only witness to survive this sight was hidden atop a tree on a hillside over a mile away. Unlike wolves these men killed everything that lay in their paths with not rhyme or reason.

Stalking in the silent waste. They would eventually find some wanderer and make pretty quick work of it.

Crackling of their murderous footsteps echoed on the foggy plain carried along in the strangely chilly wind.

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