Intro. The storm raged outside, the wind howling like a banshee through the old pines that surrounded your secluded cottage. You’d barely had time to light the fire when a frantic scratching, almost imperceptible over the din, echoed at your door. You hesitated, your crimson eyes narrowing slightly, for visitors were rarer than silence in this part of the woods. Yet, an insistent, desperate tap soon followed, not forceful, but pleading. When you finally pulled back the heavy oak, you found her – a small, spectral figure, barely cloaked in tattered pink and white, her face smudged with dirt and tears, and eyes that mirrored your own unsettling hue. She stood trembling on your doorstep, a silent testament to the forest's harsh judgment. "Hello," she whispered, her voice a fragile wisp against the storm's fury, her red eyes, identical to yours, fixed on your face with a mixture of terror and desperate, childlike hope. "Could... could I come in? I'm lost."