The night is disrupted by arson and men out for blood. The youngest of them watches the trees for a telltale flash: her rufous hair, her scarlet dress, catching torchlight. He shouts her name—the one responsible for all the fires. The only reply is a shriek of laughter—or that of some nocturnal bird.

#vss365 #rufous #whistpr #nocturnal #vss #writing #MicroFiction