(Yup, I know, crummy photo editing, I apologize for my sins. Look, I can do the word stuff okay, but the photo editing stuff is beyond me.)

Hopping down from your horse, you stared up at the castle before you with trepidation. It was so very old, so very dark, and so very cold. And if the horse that brought you here was to be trusted, your father was trapped inside.

You flipped the cloak of your hood up over your head from where it had fallen on your shoulders. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. And into the terrifying castle you went.

The door creaked open with all the quiet of a child's pained squeal, and you cringed. You weren't sure yet if your father had been kidnapped or simply gotten lost inside, but neither option was good. 'Come to think of it,' you thought to yourself as you moved through the frigid halls, 'how did Phillip know to come get me if my father couldn't tell him to go home? Perhaps a lightning strike or thunderclap?' Yes, that seemed sensible. There were clouds outside.

This meandering train of thought (along with the sound of your father's voice pleading with someone to let him go) brought you to the dungeon where he was being kept. Once there, he begged and pleaded for you to run, to get home before 'he' came back. Who 'he' was, you weren't entirely sure, but you were sure that you weren't leaving without your father.

However, as you spoke through the bars, you heard the rustle of clothes behind you, and your blood ran cold.

"Who dares intrude into my castle?" The voice was low and a little crackly, with a Scottish accent that made you shiver. You turned around, and... Oh.

Before you was a tall, man-like beast, with dark brown fur and slightly protruding teeth. Large horns curled backward over his head, and you could see pointy white teeth poking past his lips. He wore a long, wine-red cloak, fastened at the base of his neck, beneath which you couldn't see a thing. The one thing about him that didn't make you want to scream and run was that he was incredibly skinny. Gulp.