The Visitor

by Kitsune25

2-26-00

                Small tracks formed a line across the otherwise undisturbed snow.  Paws with four toes each, not much larger than a cat’s delicate feet.

                Ann peered through the window, then grabbed her coat, scarf, gloves, and camera.  Still buttoning her jacket, she left the house and followed the pawprints across the yard to the woods beyond, hoping to capture an image of the nighttime visitor.  Bare branches formed a net against the pale winter sky, their shadows tinting the snow beneath the trees shades of grey and blue.  The pawprints wound deliberately between dark treetrunks and fallen tangles of branches and leaves.  Ann followed the trail until it disappeared in a clump of bushes with dark, ice-lined leaves.  She frowned at the foliage, which was far too small to hide an animal at least as big as a large cat.  Beyond it, the woods suddenly thickened, the limbs hung with looping vines dense enough to keep the ground free from snow.  No more tracks to follow.  Ann turned around with a disappointed sigh that formed an ephemeral cloud of frost, and headed back to her house.

                The next morning, she opened the ivy-print curtains over her bedroom window and let out an involuntary gasp.  Fumbling for her small, wire-rimmed glasses, she returned her gaze to the front yard.  More snow had fallen in the night, hiding the small pawprints; in their place, a line of distinctly human footprints angled straight out of the frosted woods toward the front porch.  Even from her window on the second floor, Ann could see the flecks of red staining the fresh snow.

                She ran downstairs so quickly that she almost slipped on the carpet and darted across the wood-paneled entryway to the front door, but an urgent tapping on the living room window stole her attention before she could peer out the peephole.  She approached the window tentatively and parted the blinds just enough to see out, then pulled back with a start, her heart racing.  A naked figure huddled outside, shivering.  She waited for her pulse to return to normal and peered cautiously through the blinds again, curiosity overcoming her alarm.

                The figure lifted its head shakily; slanted green eyes like emeralds stared back at Ann out of a narrow, high-cheekboned, sickly pale face.  The stranger had seen her!  Ann knew that she should disappear from view and call the police, but something about the wide, glassy eyes, the dark eyebrows knitted together with pain, filled her with pity.  The helpless expression reminded her of a wounded animal’s frightened gaze.  She pushed the window open an inch.

                “C-can you . . . h-help me?”  The voice was soft and weak. 

                Ann left the house warily, a thick quilted blanket in her arms.  The stranger slowly stood as she rounded the corner, and Ann’s cheeks burned despite the chill outside as she realized that it was male; the androgynous voice and delicate features had led her to assume otherwise. 

                She quickly held out the blanket and he took it gratefully.  His build was unusually slight, and he was just under Ann’s height of about five and a half feet.  He couldn’t have been much older than eighteen or nineteen. 

                “Why don’t you come inside and I’ll start a fire to warm you up,” she told the youth, deciding that he looked too pathetic to be dangerous.  He followed her into the house and limped over to the couch, curling up under the blanket like a cat.  Ann flipped the switch for the gas-powered fireplace and the strange youth’s trembling soon subsided as flames burst up from fake logs.

                “Are you hurt badly?” Ann asked with concern, trying to act as normally as possible.  The stranger didn’t answer, but there was no need to.  Pain glistened in his eyes as he stared at her, giving his elfin face a wild, almost unhuman look.  Ann found herself unable to tear her gaze from the mysterious visitor as he huddled under the blanket.  His wild red and black hair stood up in spikes over his forehead, a few strands falling over his arching eyebrows.  Long eyelashes framed his tilted eyes, and his nose was tiny and pointed, right above a pouting mouth.  With his high cheekbones and small, pointed chin, he looked like a character out of an “ElfQuest” comicbook.

                Ann winced as she withdrew the blanket from his wounded foot; an angry gash slashed across right above his toes.  “Just a sec,” she gasped, and dashed into the bathroom, returning with peroxide, cotton balls and ace bandages.  The youth squeezed his eyes shut as Ann carefully cleaned the wound and bandaged it.

                “This should help--”  She broke off mid-sentence and peered at the foot.  There were only four toes.  There wasn’t even space for a fifth.  “Uh...how’d you cut yourself so badly?”

                The stranger took a shuddering breath.  “A steel-jaw trap in the woods.”

                Ann’s eyes widened with horror.  “Geez, I can’t--that’s awful!  I didn’t even think hunting was allowed in these woods, and someone set traps--”  She shook her head, unable to finish.

                The youth shifted under the blanket so that his other foot was visible.  It too had only four toes.  He winced with the movement, baring his teeth, and Ann had to stop herself from staring in alarm at his mouth.  His four canine teeth were as long and pointed as fangs.  She stood, suddenly feeling awkward.

                “Um--let me get you some clothes.  I think mine might fit.”  She ran up to her room and dug around until she found an old sweater and a pair of frayed jeans, trying not to ponder the disturbing qualities of her guest.  When she returned, the front door stood open, and he had disappeared.  She frowned and slowly approached the couch.  He hadn’t even taken the blanket.  He had to be crazy to go back outside in the snow, naked!  Running to the window, Ann scanned the yard but there was no sign of the puzzling visitor, just another trail of pawprints leading to the woods, like the one she had seen the day before.  Shrugging, Ann picked up the blanket to put it away, and stared at the long red and white hairs clinging to the fabric.  She knew enough about wildlife to recognize the fur of a fox.