‘They had all but lost hope. The fog closed in around them; they could barely see the trees in front of them, no matter the edge of the forest. As if fate had heard their calls, a light appeared in the distance. A flaring pink flame, a beacon of salvation. So entranced by the light, so desperately foolish, they failed to hear the light footsteps, failed to sense the third life form that had begun circling. The flames continued to spark, one after another, a line leading them to safety. But as they reached the end, and all the flares flickered out, and dozens of hungry eyes replaced them, they realised. It was a trap. All a ruse, to lead blinded prey into the beast’s stomach. The Fogwalkers would eat well tonight.’