whispers in the fog
The fireflies bob along ahead of you, leading you further and further away from the beaten trail. And as the trees close in around you, leaves whispering amongst themselves overhead, the lantern-light from the events begin to fade into the background. The shush, shush, shush of the trees start to give way to a murmur of voices, pressing in from the shadows.
The light-horse leading your way breaks into a run.
The forest explodes with color all around you, the birch trees and the maples standing proudly in their robes of red and gold, bright green moss creeping up their trunks. Below them crabapples and cranberries tempt you sweetly, while mushrooms and wildflowers grow along every collapsed trunk. It is all too tempting to pause and enjoy the scenery, or to reflect on the strange noises rustling in the fallen leaves. And all the while the mist billowing like a cloak from the light-horse's shoulders snakes in between the trees, cloaking the ground from view, rising higher, and higher, and higher; or perhaps you notice it right away, and watch it creep forward with distrust.
It curls thickly along the ground, rising up like a wave swelling to meet you. In the blink of an eye it has consumed you, swallowed you and the forest whole, obscuring even your hooves from sight. The air grows heavy beneath the weight of all that fog.
If you kept on despite the fog, you soon realize the ground under your hooves has changed, becoming more wild and unkept as you strayed unknowingly from the path. From within that fog, from all around you, just out of sight - come muffled voices.
Voices you recognize.
Perhaps they are the voices of your friends back home, or your loved ones long passed from the earth. Perhaps they belong to your brother, your sister, your father, your mother; or a childhood friend you’ve long grown apart from. Whoever they are, their voice carries an eerie tone, like an echo follows their words through the fog, calling your name softly, sweetly, longingly. Off to the side the mists begin to thicken, a spectral form standing to greet you. Ghosts you think you recognize pull themselves from the ground and converge around you, shivering, whispering.
But up ahead, you can see a section of the fog parting, a light streaming between the trees, the fireflies from before dancing wildly as if to say this way, this way, we're over here. Perhaps it reminds you of the stranger’s words from before; perhaps it is enough to give you the strength to push through the ghosts rising all around you.
Or perhaps you find yourself trapped, and begin to think to yourself - what’s the worst that can happen? These ghosts you once knew, what harm could they bring?
To continue the quest, you must reply to this thread with your character's choice. There is no word limit, and you can be as creative with the prompt as you'd like! The firefly-horse has led you to a section of mist, as if the forest seems committed to distracting them. Can either character even see the trail under their hooves still? What are the voices whispering to them? Are any of them familiar?
Choices: continue on to the light, or linger with the voices of your loved ones
@euryale @erasmus
