You clear your mind and try to focus on the small animal. Reaching into your mind, you feel drawn towards the edge of the lake. The tiny creature is likely looking for a water source after spending so much time in the train.
You walk further away from the other first-years, as you come right up to the edge of the water. With the sun setting, you feel completely at ease and relaxed.
Water laps gently on the pebble-strewn beach. Reeds rustle in the breeze to either side, and from somewhere among them you hear frogs chirruping and mice rustling. The glassy surface of the lake stretches out before you—gray and cold. You close your eyes for just a moment of well-deserved rest in this peaceful place.
You barely hear the cadence of the water change. You snap open your eyes to see an enormous tentacle silently breach the surface of the lake. It reaches nearly 20 feet in the air before curling back and whipping towards you!
But you sense no malice in this creature. You are not sure what is going on, but you know that this gentle giant means you no harm.
If you wish to trust your instinct and stand completely still, turn to page 116.
If you wish to ignore your gut and try to avoid the squishy arm now darting your direction, turn to page 18.
