They emerged from the mist, weapons drawn. Their faces were the colour of fog, and their eyes a piercing pale blue. They moved soundlessly, and left no tracks.
Ghosts, was Pia's first thought. Vengeful spirits, come to take her soul, to make her join their cursed undead ranks.

She almost fainted with fright. She wanted to run, but was frozen in place. She couldn't even scream, all she could manage was a quiet whimper as her body failed to obey her in every way.
Her knees gave out, and she fell on her butt.
The whole forest had gone silent. Even the wind had ceased rustling the leaves.

She tried to recall a prayer to recite, but couldn't think of any. They all eluded her, even the ones that she should have known by heart. Even the ones her mother used to always recite, the ones she thought she could repeat in her sleep.

She was doomed, she was sure of that.

But as the ghosts got closer, they looked less and less like ghosts and more and more like flesh and blood. Their faces were unnervingly colourless, but they were tangible. Their eyes had life in them. She'd never seen anyone like these ashen strangers before. They must have come from afar. Heathen slave-raiders? The thought filled her with despair, a different kind of despair to the one she'd felt a moment ago.

She was properly scared now. She scrambled to her feet, but she wasn't going to be running anywhere on her shaky legs.
There were three of them, and they quickly surrounded Pia. She raised her paws in surrender. They had weapons, and she didn't.
She could only hope against hope that they would not hurt her.

"Who... Are you?" She managed to find her voice for a brief moment. One of the strangers barked a response:

"Üks'tõõtak! Sõaaoq liiaastak!"

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