“Hello hikers,” she called to us.
“Hello,” we answered back in disbelief of of the mystical woman who stood before us. Though it was well below freezing she stood before us barefoot in a thin, pale, sliver gown. She had stormy blue eyes, dark gray skin that simmered in the sun, and stark white hair like the newly fallen snow.
“Are you lovely ladies headed up Long’s Peak this fine winter’s day,” she questioned us.
“No, we’re not mountaineers, ” I answered. “We’re just snowshoeing the lower areas,” Megan added.
“Good for you then” the nymph said coyly and turned to leave.
“Wait, why is that good,” I called out, before I could regret asking the question.
“Because I have cursed the mountain,” the gray nymph retorted with authority as Megan I began too shiver from either cold or panic.
“Did you not hear of the recent hikers’ deaths?” she continued.
“No we did,” Megan answered, “We just didn’t realize they did because of a curse on the mountain.”
“Yes, I am tired of you people disturbing my sacred grounds. I think its best if you turn around if you know what’s good for you.”
“YES!” Megan and I answered in unison as we turned around and headed back to the parking lot.