I wrote a blurb:

Margaret slumped against the side of a decaying tree, her slight frame chafing against a queer wind that blew in ragged bursts. Leaves darted towards the ground in twisting aerials from the canopy above, littering the ground in a verdant ever shifting sea.

"I can't see a damned thing." She said aloud, the words tumbling from her still numb tongue.

Margaret’s eyes narrowed into slits against a stinging wind and peered into the darkened tree line. Inky tendrils of night's grip on the morning sky had faded, but dawn's light had not appeared. Margaret’s chest heaved once, and then stopped altogether.

Through swaying branches the cause of dawn’s delay had been exposed. What should have been boundless and blue was corrupt. A pulsing, shifting mass of gray clouds swirled above.. (ai) but, not everything was inky. Margaret watched at the hulking silhouette of a figure, moving quickly through the gloomy vapors. It waved for Margaret to follow. With a weary whimper the girl pushed herself from the tree and trudged through the mud. She jogged over the uneven ground and the still distorted weather as a wraith of sorts, unable to keep pace. The