"Are you sure this is the right place?" The old man asked as Syrra finally lead the small party to a halt at the riverside.
"Yes Master Amraig," Syrra replied, as respectfully as she could. "I saw it right there, just at the edge of the trees."
Amraig stroked his wizened chin, squinting at the spot in the trees Syrra had pointed out. Syrra followed his gaze, her heart sinking further down into her chest with every passing minute. There was certainly no sign of anyone there now, just a small bluebird perched in one of the tree branches, singing away without a care in the world. Soon Cwyn appeared at Amraig's side, her tall broad-shouldered form contrasting vividly with the crooked old man beside her.
"Well? Is she telling the truth?" Cwyn asked, giving her daughter a sharp look. Syrra glowered at her mother and stalked off to pick up the bucket, still lying forlornly where she had dropped it on the riverside.
"Hmm." murmerd Amraig. "It doesn't look like it. None the less, I'll send someone over to have a look at the other bank. Perhaps our mysterious visitor left some footprints we can follow. After all, it's not impossible that someone could be here. A pedlar perhaps, maybe a merchant looking for wares? We can't be too sure Cwyn."
Cwyn nodded, but clearly wasn't convinced. Finally, Amraig turned and began to hobble back to the village, Cwyn and Syrra following. However, just as the others moved away over the lip of the hill, Syrra turned and looked back over her shoulder at the shadowy green depths of the forest. Nothing stirred between the trees, only the faint whisper of a breeze rustled the thousands of leaves that hung from the trees like tiny green arrowheads. No silver-eyed wraiths emerged from the treeline and the forest gave no sign that any living thing had been there at all. Finally, Syrra turned and followed her mother back towards the village. Whatever it was, it was gone now. But, Syrra wondered, would it be back again?