A lone child with sun-kissed, honey-blonde tresses cascading down her back like a golden waterfall, stands at the forest's edge where the crumbling stone entrance beckons like the maw of a dark, ancient beast, clutching two faded, porcelain teddy bears grasped in each trembling hand as she takes her first tentative steps into the shadow-shrouded, sentient woods, her bright hazel eyes shining like lanterns in the darkness, and her small, determined heart pounding a brave rhythm, as if defying the whispers of the trees, the warbling songs of the cypress, and the rustling leaves, which seem to conspire to turn her back, or colder still, compel her deeper, into the mystical heart of the accursed forest.