From the rivers climbs a terrible, monstrous creature. Faceless, with cracked, rotten skin. Leaving behind a trail of slime, it goes searching for food. A stream of fog wraps the trees inside its deadly blanket, smothering everything alive, burning off their flesh with its poisonous air.
The waters are dark, its surfaces glowing in the thin light of august moon. Something growls and gargles, and a hideous beast stretches its limbs, its slim frame like an ever-growing tree, emerging from the waves.
Two fragile, sleeping wings flutter in the night. The creature, astonished, sniffs and grasps, trying to reach the beauty with its twig-like fingers. Its hungry eyes become soft and silent, watching the bug take place on its hand.
It rips off her wings.
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