The fog swirled in a riled fashion across the landscape. It snared small animals in its rage and devoured them as it grew to a sudden frenzy. A figure hurried through the fog and the humid mess could do nothing but watch. The runner was so swathed in a great peacoat that fog could find no purchase. The sleeves of the voluminous thing were rolled several times over to keep them from engulfing the small hands of the owner. The person's face, who all but a few people had seen, was all but covered by a tattered newsboy cap and great wool scarf. Crazed bits of dark brown hair stuck out at all angles from beneath the newsie.Where eyes would have shown, a grand pair of brass goggles glinted. As the strange person ran, the fog suddenly lifted and the sky showed through.
"Interesting," The figure said in a feminine voice. "It appears that I have arrived late to the festivities."
The figure ran for awhile longer until it reached a party of individuals. Judging by their state they must have just finished their scuffle. Stopping at a safe distance, the girl removed her hat and dropped a quick half-curtsy half-bow.
"Salutations! Umberchild at your service. Might I join in this venerable quest?"