Frozen Ragne Paper Piece 2

A journal page was found caught by the wind, it had clearly been torn cleanly down the spine. Elegant, but shaky handwriting denotes the following message.

"I thought the stories were just nerves about the season turning, or perhaps fear of famine that often returns this time of year.

Then last night, when the mists rolled in just off the ridge, the frost on my window moved.

It had not melted.

Not fading. No.

Moved.

Patterns shifting like breath on glass, forming a shape I almost recognized and then stretching past what a human could be.

I covered the glass, thinking myself mad, but the wooden boards grew cold as metal and bit into my hand.

And there was tapping.

Slow. Patient.

Like knuckles remembering how to knock.

If the grey frost spreads to your home, don’t look directly at it.

That’s when it notices.

And if it notices…

The cold won't be the thing you need to fear.

-Unsigned"