A lone figure moved through the foliage, something somewhere was drawing her far beyond the horizon. These woods seemed so strange to her, so lush. Where she came from, it was cold and dead, an eternal winter.  Anyone with a straight head would never dare wander the threatening wilderness of her homeland.

But Siric (as she was called) was prone to wandering. This journey was different however. The girl had never gone so far, and this time she would not return.

Siric had long discarded her warm boots and was now enjoying the warm earth under her bare feet. Yet she couldn't linger; there was a purpose, though she knew not what it was.

She heard a loud wail in the distance. Siric sped up again, racing though the woods. She was compelled to scream, to hide, to help. But who? Where?
an unfamilar name left her lips....