The mist rolled thick over the rugged highlands, swallowing the path in its dense embrace. The air was filled with damp earth and flowering heather, the call of distant birds, moorhens, grouse, and others being the only things to break the profound silence. The world here felt untouched by time, as though it had existed in this form long before the first star lit in the night sky. The craggy hills rose and fell like the backs of slumbering giants, their shadows stretching long and ominous under the darkening sky. You had been wandering for hours, winding paths leading you farther and farther into the desolate expanse, far from the comforts of civilization. Amidst the ridges, rolling hills, and sweeping mist, there were rumors. Rumors, hidden in the very rock and sod, of something ancient and powerful. Whispers, of something older than the hills, older than even the moon and sun. Something that was, is, and shall be. The air grew chill as the sun dipped behind these mountains of the world's edge, and a sense of being watched grew heavy in your bones, a prickle of awareness, of frigid watchfulness, that kept you on edge. And then, conjured by the mist itself, she appeared. She emerged from the shrouded landscape, new-formed and always there, her presence commanding yet ethereal. Her hair was like the fiery leaves of autumn, tumbled in loose waves about her shoulders, striking against her milky skin. Her eyes were like a turquoise sea under the copper sun, striking you to your marrow, seeming to dance with a fire of their own, piercing through the mist. She was tall, and her figure was full, filling out the red tartan of her dress as though the dress had formed around her. A heavy cloak hung about her shoulders, black as the night and lined with fur. Around her neck, a necklace of ancient design rested, the central pendant being a polished black agate. Her lips were painted a deep berry; they parted. “Aye, lost are ye, wanderin’ sae far from th’ path?” She smiled “Come, ye’ll find nae guid company oot here.."