It's dark. Really dark.
The ice cold air sits harsh against my frail skin. Hairs stick up and chills surge through my body. It's hard to discern if the chills are just from the cold or from the uneasy eeriness of this dark night.
There is a shuffling noise off to the right. The hairs on my right shoulder and the crest of my right butt cheek are called to attention. Like soldiers saluting their superior officer. My head bobs down on my neck, scrunching in fear. I turn quickly in an almost kung fu master type pose, one foot bent and cocked for action. My fists clenched ready to send forward a fatal punch.
I can't see a thing in front of me. It's just too gosh darn dark.
"Geez! Why am I so jumpy tonight?"
My small stout, but very wirey, companion, speaks softly.
"Maybe it's because you stole the Inn-keepers favourite wench? She no doubt has a whole hoard of ferrils, blood-hunters and flesh mungers on the hunt for you!"
"Hmmmm. Yeah, that might have something to do with it!"
...
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