Phantoms in the Fog
The moor was grey and the sky was getting dark. As he hugged his coat close from the wind he used his free hand to strike the ground with the walking stick he'd borrowed. It helped him make sure each step ahead was solid and not the muck hidden beneath some grass that waited to swallow him up. It wasn't perfect as one of his already muddied shoes would tell tale. But this was his chance. He had someone with him to explore the fog.

Looking at the lady beside him, he was happy. He'd always been alone in his adventures to find the spirits but recently he'd found two. Lily moreso seemed to follow his heart in this passion. It was why he was so eager to take the suggestion to hunt for the ghost that walked the lands in the fog.

He knew how dangerous it was, he had only stepped out in the area a few times, and always in the daytime with another around. Sean being out there with someone as inexperienced as he, made him realize perhaps they should have paid for a guide. He only hoped they wouldn't pay severely for his own foolishness.

The young man gulped a bit but tried to appear brave as he walked along, hitting the ground with the stick and looked around to listen though he heard little more than the wind rustling the leaves and grasses. He shivered and nodded his head towards his companion.

"Raise the lantern a bit. I am not sure which way is the best to go.."
To say the least, Lilly was an impractical girl. She was a dreamer, and very gullible, and a firm believer in all of the supernatural beings which she had painfully read about in her penny dreadfuls. She had high hopes to one day encounter a ghoul or a hag or a spectre, or…even more delightfully wicked…a vampire – the seducer of Mr. Bram Stoker’s recently published novel! Lilly gave herself frissons of exquisite fright in her bed, speculating on how such an encounter might be, and if she, like Lucy, might be “turned” and face such a gruesome fate!

Thus it was with absolutely no hesitation, or sense, that she had leapt readily upon Mr. Callahan’s offer to accompany him on a stroll across the moors, with a view towards catching a glimpse of – or otherwise ‘experiencing’ – the legendary Bogwitch! Lilly was thrilled, and felt this use of her afternoon and evening off was a good one. After all, what else was there to do but visit her parents in the village? The thought of slogging about over the treacherous turf of peat and mire had not deterred her keen sense of adventure in the least.

She never once stopped to question Mr. Callahan’s aptitude for such a trek, even though she’d been born and raised in Masdmoor and had been cautioned time out of mind by her parents about how dangerous the Moor could be. Mr. Callahan wasn’t even from the area! But that red flag never entered her head. In fact, she had been very circumspect in telling anyone at the castle (any staff members of course) how she intended to pass her afternoon off for fear someone might stop her. Her apprehension was, again, not grounded in good common sense for such a hazardous experiment. She merely felt someone (like the Benbow) might forbid her to step out, alone, with the young, handsome Irishman.

Even as the misty fog had risen about their ankles, and in patches to their knees, and the sky above had turned first to a dove grey, and then slate, Lilly remained in high spirits. She had every confidence in Mr. Callahan, and when they had stopped to light the lantern, she had commented upon how clever he’d been, to think to bring one along. She felt completely safe and secure in his company, and following his leadership, blindly, as they wandered deeper into the miasma, he bravely and wisely scouting the way with his stick.

When he asked her to raise the lantern, she did so obligingly, and even the note of doubt in his voice did not spark any alarm in her rather simple head. She moved the lantern in a semi-circle, observing happily, ”All looks t’same t’me, Mr. Callahan. Even tho’ I was raised ‘ereabouts, I never did know how to avoid them bogs. I’m clear ‘mazed that’ee be so clever, ‘n ‘ee not even from these parts.”

[Image: Mists2.gif]
"You're right.. It does look the same..doesn't it?" Sean said, his voice calm. He didn't know how it was so calm as he looked ahead and then where they'd come from. It all looked the same. A small sinking feeling of dread started to come. This was perhaps not the best idea. He had hoped against hope that his forethought would be enough. Ignoring the smarter part of his mind that told him to hire someone. It was hard to find someone to go out after hours to the moor.

Trying to not show the seriousness of their situation, he smiled at her. "Oh, I spoke to a few about it, and I read in books of similar places. It helped me come up with this. Just stay close, as it looks like a terrible fog is coming in. I don't want to lose you."

He took a few steps, poking at the ground ahead of them and then paused to listen. He gripped the walking stick and turned to her. "If you think you hear anything, or see something. Don't hesitate to get my attention. It seems this place would be a dream for a phantom. To just drift in and out of the mists like a shadow and vanish just as quickly. No wonder this place is haunted.'

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