The mornings in Grey Hollow arrived quietly, without the noise Elara was used to. No traffic, no distant voices — only wind brushing through trees and the faint sound of water somewhere beyond the forest.
She might have believed the night at the lake had been imagination… if not for the footprints.
They appeared just outside her cottage door, pressed into the damp earth as if something heavy had stood there for a long time. The impressions were too large for a person, yet too deliberate to belong to any animal she recognized. They faced the door directly.
Watching.
Elara crouched beside them, tracing their edges with her eyes but never touching. A strange sensation moved through her — not fear, but awareness. The same feeling she had at the lake. The sense of being noticed.
The town offered no answers. When she mentioned the prints at a small grocery shop, the cashier only gave a polite smile and changed the subject. It was as though certain things were understood without discussion.
Days passed, yet the quiet tension remained. Doors that she was sure she had locked stood slightly open in the morning. Curtains shifted though the windows were closed. Sometimes she felt a cool presence behind her — never touching, only there.
One evening, unable to ignore the pull any longer, she followed the path toward the forest's edge. The light was fading, turning the sky a soft grey-blue. Shadows stretched long across the ground.
The trees grew denser as she walked, their branches weaving overhead like a ceiling of dark glass. The air smelled of damp leaves and something older — still water, perhaps, or moss untouched by sun.
She stopped when she felt it.
Not a sound.
Not movement.
A presence.
Across the clearing, between two tall trees, she saw them — a pair of pale, glowing eyes suspended within the mist.
They did not flicker or shift. They simply existed, fixed on her with a steadiness that felt almost human.
Her breath slowed instead of quickened.
She should have stepped back. Every instinct taught since childhood told her to run from what cannot be explained. Yet her voice emerged before fear could take hold.
"Do I know you?"
The forest remained silent. The eyes lowered slightly, as if acknowledging her question. Not submission — recognition.
Then the mist moved. Not blown by wind, but parting deliberately. The shape behind the eyes faded into shadow until nothing remained.
Elara stood alone once more.
That night, she lay awake listening to the quiet of the cottage. The darkness felt deeper than before, yet not threatening. Time passed without measure.
Sometime after midnight, she heard it — slow, steady breathing within the room.
Not near the door.
Not near the window.
Close enough that she could feel its rhythm.
She did not open her eyes.
For reasons she could not explain, she was certain of one thing.
Whatever watched her in the forest… had followed her home.