"The cool night stood still, not a breeze daring enough to whisper through the hooked claws of those sinister branches. The Mountain had never been kind enough to give up its dead, and its living knew better than to disturb the silence under a full moon. But that night, the labored breath of a lone Child pushed in with the mist, and greedily, the undergrowth parted to allow her entry."
"Guided by the faint glow just beyond a cracked door, the Child curiously took the frigid doorknob in her hand; unfortunately, what awaited her on the other side was not a friendly face."
“The Guardian faltered, his malicious aura dissipating as he set about prying the Child’s fingers from his cloak. He attempted three times more to awaken her, all ending in a stalemate; begrudgingly, he resigned to leaving the stubborn thing be until morning.”