The wight stood several feet away, having stopped to look around. Eira waited, hoping it would go away. Instead, a bitterly cold and vile voice arose from it, icy eyes narrowing, "You cannot hide, mortal."
The fog never ceased, and the night was never ending. Carefully placing her walking stick before of her every step, she meandered the endless, rolling hills and barrow mounds. Only the occasional stone peer broke the scenery of fog, grass, and rolling mounds. She was hastily losing track of the time as she walked on and on.