Post by alysen on Nov 25, 2007 4:12:54 GMT -5
Driving past the cemetary where Aiblinn's home is hidden, late Saturday night into early Sunday morning, a swooning, wailing noise is heard in the trees.
For a moment it sounds almost like someone crying, but it is just as easy to convince yourself that it is just the odd sound of the wind rushing over the gravestones on the hill.
For a moment it sounds almost like someone crying, but it is just as easy to convince yourself that it is just the odd sound of the wind rushing over the gravestones on the hill.