New monsters visited the town in the winter for a month once the frost had formed. The town counted sleep. Ice ribbons hidden on trees. Witch's disappearance left the town open to ghosts. Trolls, spirits, sprites, beasts. Monsters inspected the empty hill.* They arrived in town with one million leaves eating at their skin. They asked abstract riddles, impossible puzzles. If townsfolk struggled, if wrong townsfolk, the townsfolk were fed to the lake. Ghosts were thrown onto their backs, forced to walk until collapse dawned the victor. Townsfolk locked loudly their doors. Monsters wandered more where trees ate the lost. Townsfolk sawed the forest to unfind the hiding in every stump. They found a door that none could open nor destroy,] jars falling from the heavens as the trees] left at dusk.] Townsfolk carried garlic. Wore garments blessed. Chanting,\ panting, encouraging the outlaw of riddles. To ban such muttering puzzles. How the snow piled in the trees, how the fakes resembled the many questions asked. These new monsters,/ the town eyed on the hill./ It used to be just she, they'd think. They'd sing for her return. Her claws on their back black scabs, forgotten but not gone.