deathly still

“Enkidu, my friend, I have had a third dream, and the dream I had was deeply disturbing. The heavens roared and the earth rumbled; it became deathly still, and darkness loomed. A bolt of lightning cracked and a fire broke out, and where it kept thickening, there rained death.”

The woods were deathly still, more forbidding than I had ever seen them—green and black and stagnant, dark with the smells of mud and rot.

Everywhere it was deathly still.

The whole room became deathly still.

Yet, unlike the menagerie behind the walls of the repository, they stay deathly still for just a few seconds before wandering away back amongst their natural habitat.