It's cold in the church, and getting too dark to look at the large metal printed photographs of water strung all along the two apse aisles. Actually, you can still see them okay, but there's a lot of debris on the ground you don't want to stumble on, and you're starting to think about the long walk home through the woods.
You hear wolves, you think. Can those really be wolves?
You don't know how you feel about that. Like, hearing wolves in the woods in the bright daytime? Pretty good. In the woods at dusk, okay. But in an abandoned church in the middle of the lost woods as the wind begins to pick up? A bit unsteady.
You sort your way towards the door, but a last water picture on the wall to your left catches your eye in the growing gloom: