Haunted Wood winter is coming

Although he had not heavily dosed himself with medicine prior to his adventure, when Mou came in to the darkness of the wood he, for a hestating moment, thought the yawning darkness that swarmed around him was not a forest but a cave. A flashback to the winding tunnels did not come — rather, the white of the snowstorm summoned the image of something similar. A cave slick with ice and layered with caps of snow; he thought he heard a voice crying in the night, screeching, and snapped his attention all around in search of the source.

The sound was gone. As if noticing it at all caused the vision to dissolve.

He saw a pair of sharp, hawkish eyes and then nothing but the falling snow. Mou huffed and shook his head, and the tremble carried down his back and through every part of him, shifting collected snow off of his faded pelt. The boy didn't know why he was seeing things; he couldn't tell if the eyes were any more or less real than the crying voices that had briefly found homes in his ears. He was unsettled, and crawled after the shelter of some tightly growing trees.