Fog

Emily adjusted the strap of her backpack, her breath forming clouds in the chilly morning air. The forest was dense and overgrown, a sea of gnarled trees draped in a thick blanket of fog. The path beneath her boots was barely discernible, the dirt trail more of a memory than a guide. But she pressed on, her heart set on finding the place she had seen in her dream—the one that whispered promises of answers.

She had woken three nights ago with the name etched into her mind: Eldermist Hollow. It wasn't on any map she could find, and no locals in the nearby town seemed to know of it—or at least, they pretended not to. But Emily had seen it, clear as day in her dream: a circle of ancient stones deep within the forest, shrouded in mist and mystery. She didn't understand why it called to her, only that it did, and she had learned long ago not to ignore such instincts.