You're in a clearing. It's nowhere you recognize. The fog is gone, but you're not home.
Judging by the color of the leaves and the chill in the wind, you're deep into autumn. Probably late November.
"What the hell is going on?" you ask the empty clearing as you stand back up.
Off in the distance, smoke reaches up from the trees into the sky.
"Hello!" you try. "Anybody?"
Nothing.
A few minutes into your hike towards the smoke, a house of dark wood appears in another clearing. There are no houses like this in Arbor Isle. Not anymore, at least. It looks simple and small, with a rickety fence surrounding a vegetable garden.
"Fog's coming in," a man says as he steps outside the house, three children running past him.
One of them is the girl in the white hat. She wears a beige dress with a red floral pattern on it. The other two are a younger boy and an even younger girl with round cheeks.
Back in elementary school, your class went on a field trip to see some historical reenactors talk about the American Revolution. This family looks like they could have been a part of one of those scenes, sitting around churning butter and spinning wool.
"We'll only be on the shore," the eldest girl says.
"You'll watch your brother and sister closely," her father tells her. "You know full well it isn't safe when there's fog."
"I'll keep them within my sight at all times," she reassures him, then goes chasing after the two children. None of them seem to see you.
You follow the girl. Though you know something bad must be about to happen, something is different here.
Very Different