The heat from the fire is warm against your skin, rising higher and higher as you throw small branches into the flames. The night around you was dark and cold, large trees surrounding you. It was so cold and soon you would need more wood for your only source of warmth... soon you rise from your seat on a fallen log. But the dancing of the flames draws your eyes and you couldn't bear to tear yourself away from your only source of warmth. After a short amout of time, staring into the red and yellow flames, a figure appears, seemingly out of the darkness. Under the pointed hat the figure wore, where a face should have been, is what looks to be a mask, in the shape of a bird skull, bleached white as a bone. "I see that you enjoy a camp fire... There are storys that go excellent with a fire on nights such as these... I have quite a few stories..."
With a slim, clawed hand, he gestures to the log you had just risen from, and with a haunting voice, he asks: "Wont you please have a seat, and allow me to tell you a story?"