The decaying bark of the tree crunched and snapped beneath your feet, but it did not give way. You were able to scale over the fallen log and make it to the other side. Outside of the whines of the log, you heard no other sound, and you began to feel this eerie sense of dread overcome you as you made your way into the basin. With each ginger step, you began to second-guess your idea, wondering if this was really the right move to make. The feeling grew from the pit of your stomach, and by the time you were completely in the crater, your legs practically shook from anticipation.

The sun, though nearly overhead, did little to hide the pale shadows of the dark clouds. Nerves made you stop and look around, as you checked the surroundings. Old trinkets lay in the crater. Bits of scrap metal, some tattered pieces of old paper that probably served as newspaper or notices littered the ground around you. You saw that kind of debris every day, so you did not pay them much attention. One particular object, however, immediately caught your eye.

Out of the corner of your vision, you saw fur. You turned your head to get a better look. A tattered teddy bear, with its feathery insides torn open and leaking from a number of rips and tears, lay pinned beneath some debris. One of its glossy eyes was missing, and the other one seemed to stare eagerly at you, as if it was calling your name. You could only begin to wonder what kind of stories the teddy bear had to share: about its life prior to the chaos and the destruction, about a child who must have abandoned it many moons ago.

As you turned to look at the teddy bear, you heard a crack, and something passed through your field of vision. You whirled around suddenly, alert and afraid, as you swore you saw a shadow dart across the top of the basin. Your heart pounded in your chest, as you wondered what to do. Stuck in the bottom of the crater, you were vulnerable. Your vision was limited, and who knew who—or what—was gathering confidence just beyond your sight?