Pine floats crisply on the evening breeze, whispering to the grass and playing the trees. A whistle of shrill gusts played on the nature. A ripple like the sea, as bright as a glacier. Yet the wide and wondorous outside lay bare and unprotected under the moon. So you wonder uneasily what in its depths reside. Or for staying an end you might meet too soon. You peer over phthalo landscapes, crowded in its' un-right peace. As blue tints it all in the lates, yet in one small patch this blue does cease. Over there on the hillside, but a little ways away. Sat an inn, barely hidden in its yellow light. It's voice calling you to stay. You walk across the dipping valley, and up the dusty pathway. Your feet grow heavy as labored steps tally as if walking the whole day. A door soon beckons to you, asking for your hand. It's unlocked state let's you through, and in the corridor you now stand. You walk on by to find an owner and a room to stay. Yet as the hallway grows closer, your unease gains way. You peer on forward, and look still on. Not knowing what you walk toward, not knowing what this place would don. Dust and rot hung on the stale air, making you doubt whether anyone is there.