Husk

As the shade drifts by one particularly large oak, its glow momentarily illuminates a small, bulbous husk. There's just time to see a seam in the husk pucker before the shade glides by, returning the husk to darkness.

But then, a low, sustained intake of breath arrests the shade's forward movement for just a second -- and then it begins to drift backward. The husk comes into the light once more as the shade is pulled closer. The husk's steady inhalation intensifies, halting the shade's movement altogether. Streamers of ethereal matter pull away from the shade, spiraling downward to the husk, where the seam has parted just enough to engulf the streamers, trapping them inside.

The shade's form begins to stretch and distend as the husk draws it in. Bit by bit the shade is pulled into the husk, until finally, nothing remains. The forest is plunged into full night once more.

Then, the sounds of the forest grow quiet and still. They are replaced by the sound of the husk, slowly chewing.