something that goes B U M P in the night {open}

[xander protero]

xander.

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In the bright sunlight that blessed the grounds he knew so well, everything was lit up perfectly. Sunshine glittered through the circular gaps in the oak leaves, floating around the grass as their naked parent watched silently above them. The gnarled roots of the oak twisted and turned below him, leaving a thousand unsolved puzzles in their wake.

Xander rolled his head back, examining the blue sky. Perfect before the winter snow, he thought, pensive dreams slipping into his vision. He was a dreamer - a stupid, placid dreamer - but in a sense, it was like a shield against reality. Whatever the world said would just bounce away, like rubber against steel. A truly artistic creation of human resistance.

Beside him, Rover's grey fur swayed in the breeze, looking as soft and thick as ever. The husky's muscles protruded from beneath his sleek pelt, bulging and simply suggesting the aspect of pure strength. "Strong as your father, Rover."

Xander's sweet, smooth voice rolled off the tongue as easily as it drifted into the ear. A few years ago, on a trip to his homeland, Ireland, he'd met his dog's father, now deceased but still alive in pictures. He had pulled sleds in Alaska before retiring and returning to Dublin as a champion husky - something Rover could be proud of.

He smiled pleasantly, letting the pure joy of the moment seep into his veins. In a moment, he would have to get up - take Rover for a walk around the grounds, return to his dormitory, write his essay on 'A Midsummer Night's Dream.' It was all just a blur - but for now, he'd stay in the gentle silence of the outside world.

Xander turned his head to the side, examining the lake in the distance, littered with dead, brown leaves and casual ducks. How lucky they are to enjoy this day without the burden of doubt on their shoulders. Without having the thought of tonight in their minds all the time...

He winced; tonight. It would be another normal night for him, and for other students. But they would enjoy games, social activities or just a night in the dorm. He was... different, in a way. He would grap the rifle from beneath his bed, tug Rover towards his long leather lead used only for night-time 'patrols' like this, and enter the forest.

"Some say it's cruel, to shoot the wanderers in the forest," he said to himself softly, eyes nearly closed with his head pressed against the rotting bark of the tree. "I say you never know who they are - what they're doing in the forest so late. I'm a dark protector - you win some, you lose some."

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[megan ralston]

Feet in sneakers streaked gracefully across the ground. The winter wind ran through her black hair, whipping the edges of her unzipped hoodie around. The new girl was running through the forest, skipping easily across the logs and twigs littering the ground, barely making the sound of a squirrel. She was used to running like this, enjoying the sting of twigs brushing her face. Being born in Pennsilvania made her a perfect canidate for walks in the forest, unaffected by the cold.

Megan skidded suddenly to a halt. Two figures were pressed against an old oak, and one held a rifle. She carefully stepped to the side, wondering who it was. Someone defending something, or someone attacking something? Or someone! Either way, I should be careful.

Megan Ralston
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