"She is dead..." the shadow whispered softly, voice raspy, charcoal eyes glistening in the bleak blackness of the night.
Yet all that heard this obvious comment was the bending trees, leaning over to see what had happened, curiousity too great for the broken branches and rotten leaves.
The woman lay on the ground, a mad grin plastered on her pale face, within her eyes the ocean could be seen, yet it froze, no longer washing over the rocks of her dying pupil as it fell within the non moving sea of her iris.
Crimson dew fell on the yellow grass that cut into her bare back, leaving straw coloured blades sticking on her now blood-shod blouse.
The knife was sited near the spine, entwined within the cells and skin that stood in the edge's way.
But the shadow did not linger long, and soon it fled away, muttering words of regret and sorrow.
And the woman lay there smiling, though dead she certainly was.