[color=7ea7d8]❄ ❄ ❄[/color] A sharp cold breeze swept through the elegantly furnished room. The night had been still just a moment ago but now the freezing breath of the night had come to say hello. The room was becoming much too cold, too fast. The pale girl wrapped in a towel rushed up to hurriedly snap the window shut. "I don't think I need [i]that[/i] open anymore," she muttered. Clothes lay uncharacteristically thrown about on the bed, but she managed to pick out her warmest of nightgowns. After quickly throwing it on, she sat carefully across from her closet. It was open, and though the room was hardly lit, she could somehow still see the object of her confusion. She blinked a few times, just to make sure. But it was [i]still there[/i]. Anya could barely believe it. That there was a magical object now in her closet was shocking enough, but even worse was the highly likely chance of there being more creatures out there like the ones that had attacked her friends some weeks ago. She'd always prided herself on being somewhat coolheaded, so after it had happened, she'd rushed straight home after taking her terrified friends to a clinic. Anya had wiped off the snow from the shovel, wrapped it in a thick fleece, and put it into her closet away from prying eyes. And she'd been peeking at it every night ever since, wanting to be sure it'd all been real.. But now what should she do? Was this power meant for only her, and if so for what purpose? Why her? And what in the world had the shovel done to her when she'd touched it? Anya rolled all these thoughts over and over in her mind as she inched forward and took the shovel into her lap. She'd just begun to peel back the fleece to fill her eyes with the sight of a real magical object yet again, but a faint echo of an animal cry reached her ears. Her heart froze. Rushing to the window was an almost instinctive reaction--very uncommon for her-- as Anya tossed it open to scour the faraway city lights with her own eyes. Perhaps she was imagining things as this cry was not a howl, but she felt as though she recognized the sound... almost like it just [i]seemed[/i] similar to the frightful horrors she'd encountered before on what was also a dark night. An involuntary shudder went through her, and it was certainly not because of the cold this time. She began quietly speaking to herself, as she sometimes did when she got nervous. "What do I do? I don't really know what that shovel does, nor do I know how to use it..." She continued as she anxiously scrunched up her nightie into a ball, "someone could be in trouble like I was, but I'm not a hero. I'm all hesitant when it comes to helping others if it puts myself in trouble..." "But if I want answers, then I've got no choice." It would take a quick train ride, but Anya could be there in several minutes. She snagged a fluffy winter coat and, though she hesitated, took up the shovel. She knew she'd need it.