The shuffle of feet upon the forest trail drew in the attention of the figures which lurked within the trees. Hooded heads peaked out from behind trunks of wood, searching eyes watching the trail intently as an orange light illuminated the dense fog. A quiet, breathy whisper escaped from beneath one blackened cowl: Others have arrived. They wander into the Mothers domain; she will know of their presence soon. Another of the figures reached a hand into the dark folds of his robes, his hand seeking something within it. The gesture was mimicked by several others, all moving in preparation

Once again, that breathy whisper rushed out from a hooded face: Of course, the Mother only wants one. In unison, the many hands emerged with each brandishing a knife or crooked blade. Without another word, their feet brought them forward from behind the trees. The terrified screams of those upon the trail were brief, and with their silencing the hooded figu