Vivian Carr tested the weight of the scythe, its edge gleaming faintly in the lantern light. The air grew colder as she watched the winged figure approach, its hollow eyes fixed on her. It held out two lanterns, their flames casting dancing shadows across the pumpkins that lined the path. A silent invitation? Or a warning? She felt an odd compulsion to follow, drawn by the promise of something ancient and powerful. Vivian raised the scythe slightly, a gesture of acceptance or defiance—she wasn't sure which. The skeletal figure simply nodded, then turned and glided deeper into the woods, beckoning her onward.