The woods by the marsh

I stand yet again in a forest but this time something is different, the vegetation growing on the trees is more barren showing the bark both brown, black, and white, a flowing hybrid of changing leaves sprouting from their keepers growing from soft wet ground. Yea the ground, is moist, soaking my feet all the way to my ankles as it gives in to every step like cold cushions. The trees, they're growing more densely to the left, the air swarming with beats of small wings and almost muffled morning cries. I must be at the forest's edge, to the west the ground lies almost empty, no growth except for tufts of grass and sprawling orange moss, creating a canvas of wet rust seeping into the edge of the sky leaving the light bathing my surroundings in a darkened gold.

This great empty marsh washed in a peculiar shade of gold makes me feel something, it is hard to describe, my heart is beating in short hurried beats, enveloping me with unfulfillment similar to every time I'm made to wash my old scar... it is curious, but I don't think that I'll find more than this feeling watching over this landscape, I'll better head over to the woods, see what is to find within those quiet cries enveloping this border in-between.

The air spreading through my nose carries this almost submerged scent, like soaked tea leaves left out carried by a lukewarm breeze. The thicket has grown more compact, the unison of white black, and brown springing from the green earth has grown even more pronounced, just as the surrounding sounds of animals, rustling through the trough treetops and bushes, humming their serene tunes. There are no louder steps to be heard, since this is a different forest I should not expect too much, but it would have been relieving... just knowing. Up ahead and a bit to the side, it seems to be some sort of trail, a slight part revealing a threaded path within this dense growth.

Some time has already passed since I started down this path, I wonder just how much time I've got left before the abyss calls me back, will I be able to spy or experience something new before my return? Will I be able to provide a good story for Harry? I really wonder... it can happen at any moment, sometimes creeping, sometimes in the forefront, but every time it feels sudden. Every moment is precious, but I should not be too greedy, but still, I cannot help for my heart and wings to twitch in anticipation for what might be to come. There, just a bit further ahead there is something peeking forth between condensed growth and verdure, A color lighter than the surroundings reflecting back the flare above, Is it some sort of structure? I should get closer.

It is a building, bright and humble constructed with shaven logs and glass panes to peer out over this clearing. The entrance itself stands elevated by a flight of stairs, giving whoever's staying there a better overlook of the surroundings. Down to the right, there's a small construct of stone, creating a circle above a small makeshift roof with a rope going down, it is similar to things I've seen before during the visions which took me to towns, it is called a well if I remember correctly, Harry did mention once that we have a well running beneath the room and that's how we acquire the water for the tub. But in our case, we pump it up through some steel faucet, so there are clearly different types, it makes me wonder just how many it might be.

I'm getting myself distracted, can't let my mind wander too much, I should take a look inside this cabin, it might be intrusive but a building like this, hidden away and far removed from any common community leaves my insides tingling with curiosity. The wooden stairs leave no sounds, I can feel the slight pricks of wood grazing my bare feet but it is yet to betray a single creak, every step building the anticipation forming within my chest. The door is right in front now, should I really do this? The iron of the handle got small lumps of rust brushing against my hand... I should just make the most of it, deep breaths now.

The creak from the door had me startled for a second, during my ascension up the stairs it was almost as everything had grown still, a pressing quiet that was broken by that sharp note from the door and the gasp from my own lips. The insides of this cottage, I'm not too sure how to describe it, maybe homely would be fitting if anything, a light entryway into a cozy and furnished room filled by the natural lighting shining through the numerous glass panes across the two sidewalls. Wait this feeling feels familiar, something drawing, my right palm growing hot, there in the corner upon a pedestal is a book, adorned with a black bell on the cover, it is almost glowing, or is it just a trick of the light? Is it reacting to me like the bell in that tower did?

"Who's there!" A man, old and gray is standing by the edge of the room aiming two shining barrels down the room, looking around, one finger resting against the trigger. But as he sweeps the room it does not seem like he has seen me, he must have reacted to the noise of the door. But his eyes, they are now resting on the book his gaze wide, is it awe? Wait, the book, I was distracted for a moment, when did it start to vibrate?

"Finally... I've waited this day for years, don't worry." He's lowering the rifle, what is going on? What do I have to do with this? He is fumbling with something in one of his pockets, pulling forth pen and paper, placing it gently down on the table to the left.

"You are welcome to ask me anything, but in return, I hope you will help me out with my questions too." Seems fair, but I don't know if I've got any answers in return, maybe I should just start simple.

"Who are you? What have you been w..." Beating of wings besides my own, a terrible burning from the brand, a lonely cold sucking the air out of my surroundings, screeching everything to a halt. It's back.