Writing Prompt

The wild has found itself at my doorstep.

It has crawled down from the mountains,

Nestled itself in the skins of the prowling beasts that trace my path,

And now it knocks against my skull,

Begging for entrance....

In far lands there is a small misty grassland. Nobody dares to enter it though. The villages around have many cryptic stories about those who enter. Reports of large creatures with piercing blue eyes, that freeze your blood. Stories of the mist spreading and causing quick death are popular around that area, and nobody doubts the wise men who say death awaits the brave. Not even the bravest men wil...