An autumn spirit and her steed watch over the still woodland. With no winds to rustle the trees and loosen the browning leaves, the forest is near silent. On a bright day as this, the woodland creatures should be gathering and feeding, but none are there.

“Where are the animals, Jet?” she asks.

The raven shrugs his shoulders and fluffs his feathers. “Awwwk, something keeps them away. Something… not right.”

“Whatever could it be?” As if in answer an eerie, rumbling sound cracks through the still air, far on the other side of the woods. Without hesitation the spirit clambers upon her steed’s back and grips his robes. “Come on, Jet, let us see what has come to these woods.”

And the raven is away, through the canopy and beyond.