"Kyaaa!" The sharp cry cut through the air, soon followed by Moland and Quer rushing into Genevieve's room, their faces filled with concern. Genevieve sat tensely on her bed, her eyes wide with fear, and her breath coming in gasps.
Moland's face showed deep concern as he asked, "Young lady Genevieve, what happened?"
"We heard your cries, Young lady Genevieve," Quer said with a worried tone. "We heard you scream, and we rushed to your room. What did you dream about?"
Genevieve, still trembling, replied, "I... I had a terrible dream."
Equally worried, Quer inquired, "A terrible dream about what, Young lady?"
Genevieve swallowed hard, still shaken by the vivid dream she had just experienced. "I dreamt... I dreamt of meeting a tall and strange figure. It was chasing me as if it wanted to kill me."
When the words "tall and strange figure" left Genevieve's mouth, Moland and Quer seemed to recall the events at the church from the previous night.
