Upon my hillsides, aspen trees stand vigil. Much like the mountain itself, these trees see all. Many minds link as one. Why do they shiver? What causes them to quake so?

Something prowls the cliffs and crags beyond the forests, something the trees are smart enough to fear. A cold shadow reaches out to snap their golden boughs, but their quaking wisdom sustains them.

But it’s not a shadow, is it? No, it’s something very real — flesh and blood. It is boney and gaunt, yet it is also strong beyond measure. It is hunger, it is greed. Tread carefully now… is it something to be feared from without, or something to be feared from within?