Beneath a Silver Moon

The soft chime above the bakery door jingled one last time as Eli locked up for the night. The glow from the shop window cast a golden reflection across the pavement, while the rest of silver glade was already sinking into shadows. With his apron folded over his arm, and a half-eaten honey bun in the other hand, Eli stepped into the cool evening air. He paused, glancing toward the dark silhouette of the forest at the edge of town. It was quiet tonight. Still. like the trees were holding their breath. Locals always whispered about the woods- silly rumors about ''Wolf Spirits'' and strange sightings. Eli didn't believe in the kind of thing. Not really. He just liked the peace of this town. And the forest, as mysterious as it was, made the place feel.... grounded. Ancient. His boots crunched along the path that curved behind his bakery and into a narrow shortcut leading toward his apartment. The trail was dimly lit by a few old streetlamps, and as always, silent. Too silent...... A sudden rustle snapped through the tress to his left. Eli stopped... The branches swayed, and something moved-fast, heavy, unseen. He held his breath..... Maybe it's deer, he told himself. Or a fox. Or even just the wind. Then it came again -------a low growl, deep and close. Eli turned, trying to see through the thicket. ''Hello?'' he called, voice uncertain. ''Is someone there?'' Nothing................... Then, all at once, a flash of golden-black fur shot from the shadows.....Eli staggered back, heart leaping into the throat......A massive wolf----larger than anything he'd ever seen-----landed just feet away from him, its fur shimmering like polished obsidian under the moonlight. Its golden eyes locked onto his. Eli froze... The wolf didn't move. didn't growl. didn't pounce it just...watched him...Eli face looks so innocent just like pour soul. Seconds passed like years. Then, without warning, the creature turned and bounded back into the trees, vanishing between branches like a ghost........ Eli stood there trembling, heart hammering wildly against his ribs. The half-eaten bun has fallen from his hand. That.......wasn't normal. That wasn't just animal. That wolf has looked at him------- truly looked------like it understood......He didn't sleep that night. And the next morning, when he opened his bakery, he found something strange. One of the pastries on the windowsill--------a cinnamon roll he'd left to cool----------was gone, mess, No crumbs......Just a single paw print near the edge of the flour-dusted counter. It was too large for a dog. too perfect for a hoax. And somehow, it made him smile.